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People equate hospice with death. If you think of the word 'Death,' you are not alone. It never ceases to amaze me that in the 50 years hospice services have been available to everyone in this country, the association people tend to have with hospice is not 'comfort care at the end of life', but rather 'giving up on living'. My mom was on hospice care for 2.5 years. It kept her stable and comfortable. When she was kicked off it for a few weeks for no longer needing it, her health declined precipitously, thus again qualifying her for the service. Her story is not unique. Many people are on hospice for much longer than the "6-month or less" qualifying diagnosis. But too many people wait until they are days or weeks away from death out of fear of giving in to death. They miss out on the comfort care from the heroic nurses, the aides, the social workers, the spiritual care team, and doctors. They miss out on having a team review their care. I have been a hospice volunteer working with patients at three different non-profit hospices. I have been a community ambassador volunteer at a hospice, producing programming on death and dying. I have seen and heard stories from so many families who are eternally gratefully for the hospice care their loved one received. Yes, there are fair criticisms of hospice, such as the problem that Medicare-reimbursement of their services has overly medicalized their work. Death is not a medical event. For-profit hospices have often tarnished the field, seeking profits over quality care. But you have to believe the hospice movement is not about hastening death at all; it is about deep love, compassion, honoring of the dying person so that the highest level of peace and comfort can be achieved as they prepare to leave their earthly bodies. When you hear the word 'Hospice' what do you think of?

I want to gently, kindly, lovingly say 'Yes'! If your person has the time to prepare and plan and accept dying and you get to hear their wishes, and share your love and forgiveness and honor each other then yes. Dying is not the real problem. It’s the regret, what was left unsaid, what was left unresolved. Studies show that the four most important things to communicate at the end of life touch on these themes: 1. Thank you for all you are. 2. Please forgive me for my trespasses. 3. I forgive you for everything. 4. I love and am so deeply grateful to have had you in my life. Getting to say goodbye fully is a gift not only to you and your loved one, but as you find your way after your person dies. You can bathe in the light and love. You can be carried on that beautiful, sweet, painful wind. You can move on without that person in their physical form, but always so deeply in your heart and spirit. You experience loss, deep loss, and deep

Every Tuesday morning for more than two years, I have been facilitating virtual Death Cafes via Zoom. I love doing it. It’s my anchor. It feeds my heart and spirit. It is family. One thing I know for sure: People want to talk about death. They want to be listened to and feel understood, and they want to listen with hearts wide open to others. They want to feel that the space is safe to share deeply. What is a Death Cafe? Simply stated, it is a group-directed discussion of death with no agenda, objectives or themes. It is a discussion group rather than a grief support or counseling session. Started in 2011 in England (see DeathCafe.com) by Jon Underwood, a prescient gentleman who died unexpectedly in 2017, in order to normalize conversations around death, Death Cafes are open to anyone, free, and wildly popular. Over 14,000 Death Cafes have taken place in more than 81 countries to date. Here is a map of Cafes just in the U.S.: I led Death Cafes in person before the pandemic. I find that the virtual environment helps people open up more intimately. My friend is a therapist who now, thanks to Covid, is 100% online. She finds this to be true too; people will open up online in a way they would not in person. She can read their body language better online. Because people like the virtual intimacy of this safe space where they can share deeply, they keep coming back. Before you know it, there are regulars and a sense of community that is welcoming to newcomers. Its a bit like a Twelve-Step meeting: it is safe, confidential, respectful space, with no interrupting, no crosstalk, no advice giving unless requested, and deep listening and acceptance. It is a loving space. There is no pressure to share. But can the topic of death be fun to talk about? The family feel makes these conversations fun. Not partying fun. Not dancing all night fun. Not ‘haha’ funny. But fun in the sweet, sacred way where you feel comfortable and at home, and know for those 90 minutes at least, all is well. So if you feel that little pull towards trying out an open conversation about death and dying, know these things are true in a Death Cafe: You will be unconditionally supported. You will be free to cry or laugh, share or not. You will not be advised or judged or pressured. You can share deeply. You can feel deeply. And you can laugh with others about death and dying without guilt. Death Cafes are offered on a not for profit basis and with no intention of leading people to any conclusion, product or course of action. For more information check out deathcafe.com. For the death cafes I facilitate, simply search ‘death cafe mission hospice’ and ‘death cafe ekr foundation’ on Eventbrite, or find me, Rhyena Halpern, on Facebook or LinkedIn where I post the registration link weekly. Here is the link for some upcoming ones: May 31st: *VIRTUAL* Death Café Eventbrite - Mission Hospice & Home Care presents *VIRTUAL* Death Café - Tuesday, May 31, 2022 - Find event and…www.eventbrite.com June 7th: *VIRTUAL* Death Café -- In partnership with Bay Area Cancer Connections Eventbrite - Mission Hospice & Home Care presents *VIRTUAL* Death Café -- In partnership with Bay Area Cancer…www.eventbrite.com June 14th: Monthly Virtual Death Cafe with EKR Foundation Eventbrite - Elisabeth Kübler-Ross Foundation presents Monthly Virtual Death Cafe with EKR Foundation - Tuesday…www.eventbrite.com

Twenty months ago I ended my relationship with my partner of 23 years. Happily ended. I wanted and needed it to end. Sometimes I miss the security and comfort of that relationship, despite the clash, conflict and lack of connection. Why? Because we were family. With all the good and the bad. I remember clearly one night several months back, hearing a car parking on the street and for a split second I was happily waiting for him to walk through the door. Sometimes nowadays when my X and I text each other, I am just so happy to be in that familiar banter and rapport with him. I could plotz with glee. Why? Because we really were family. But mostly these twenty months have been a wonderfully freeing time for me. Beyond the initial whoosh of release and relief, I have experienced an amazing re-alignment of my values, interests and choices. My days flow. There are no obstacles, no serious lows, no energetic irritants. Life is good. It is so so hard and painful to break up a family, and to stop the clock on the accumulation of memories and shared time. It took me years of deep pain to gather my strength to make the leap. Recently I pulled up a vision/goal/dream list I wrote soon after the break-up that envisioned my aspirations for a life in perfect harmony, total alignment. With 50 items bulleted on it, I could only hope to achieve a few. To my amazement, in reviewing it now all these months later, I have incorporated into my life 43 things on my list on a regular basis, with 5 more lining up and 2 indefinitely postponed. I wrote the list all those months ago and forgot about it. But it did not forget about me. My top three items on this list were to find a wonderful, kind new love (6 months and happy!); to sell my house and find my dream house (my house goes for sale this month!); and to go through 45 years of archival letters and writings and photographs in order to reflect on the past and parse out what I really need to hold on to (done!). I listed the things I wanted and needed in my life to feel truly alive- from close connections with people; to meaningful volunteer and consulting work as an end of life doula, hospice volunteer, retirement/third act coach, and wellness coach; to the following of physical, mental and spiritual practices like yoga, hiking, rowing, meditation, Mussar, Shabbat, poetry, reading, writing, watching of wonderfully creative media content, and more. I have come into my true self. I feel rich. Almost every day I have a sense of feeling so rich and blessed and grateful for this moment. This spiritual richness is the most meaningful sense of contentment I have ever experienced. What do you want from your one precious life? What makes you feel rich?

That is my mom in the big silver urn, my sister in the blue swirly bottle and my father in the gold and blue box. Let me correct myself, it's their ashes. Every time I go into my tiny backyard I see them. I kinda wave to them. Or nod. I am glad they are there. My mom was 94 when she died and she was ready. We got to say goodbye and share our love over and over. My father was 84 and his heart gave out taking a crap in the bathroom. My sister had metastasized breast cancer. At the time of her death she had 16 tumors in her brain. I have other beloved people who died. My friend Shauna was murdered by a convicted rapist who had just been released from prison after 20 years. Carol died in a car accident. Robert was only 26 years old when he died of cancer. Elizabeth was 49 when she died of pancreatic cancer. Jules was 89. My aunts and uncles died of age related illnesses. I carry them with me as you carry yours. They are our soldiers. They went first into the arms of death or the battle with death. They are leading the way for me with light. I am grateful and indebted. As I am grateful to Ursula Le Guin for this quote, "The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next."

Just click on the this little link and go right to the post! https://rhyhalpern.medium.com/hello-sexual-desire-after-menopause-4cc399434b04

I had graduated a year early from high school and was just a few months into college. I had a new, older boyfriend and a diaphragm. I used the spermicide, but I got pregnant anyway. I found out I was pregnant at a building that I only later realized was actually run by a religious organization trying to talk women out of abortions. I missed out on this at the time because to her credit, the kind woman who took my urine to be tested was decent. She meekly suggested one time that continuing the pregnancy and adopting the child out was an option. She backed off when I cut her off with a killer glare and adamant words that that was not at all a viable (sic) option for me. I hope I was fearless and intimidating in her eyes. I hope she switched sides after witnessing the many women who needed real options when faced with an unwanted pregnancy. That was 1974. One year after Roe v. Wade became the law of the land. I was 17 years old. Many times since then I have stopped in my tracks and stood still in utter gratitude that I had the right to a legal abortion. My mom had had an illegal abortion at some point after I was born. I was the baby of three daughters and she had not planned for me, let alone a fourth child, with her battering spouse, my father. She told me she had to have sex with him to get money for the groceries. I have wept many tears for women who have been mutilated and even killed by deranged butchers who performed unclean, demeaning ‘back alley abortions’, as well as for the imprisoned women who boldly helped women get safe abortions, at great risk to themselves. What would have happened to me if I — if we- did not have access to safe and legal abortions? The religious right has worked hard and long to get to this political tipping point of SCOTUS’s pending overturning of the 1973 law. We have known it was coming and that is why we have diligently supported abortion rights, nonprofits like Planned Parenthood, and the availability of abortion pills. In the 1970’s and 1980’s women’s health emerged as a bold response to historically misogynistic health care. We were taking our bodies back from the patriarchy! The publishing of “Our Bodies Our Selves” signaled the arrival of feminist health care; what was once considered radical is now accepted as mainstream healthcare. In those years, many of us knew of ‘menstrual extractions as a safe and common underground alternative to traditional abortions. Adversity is the mother of invention. Now we will use our smarts, our outrage, and our convictions to find new ways to subvert the backlash against women’s reproductive rights and keep moving forward! We are not going backwards. We will not cede control of our bodies. After forty-nine years of legal abortions, we know our rights. We will not back down!

Like you, I am heartsick about the pain and suffering occurring in Ukraine this very moment. All because of one pathological narcissist’s crazy obsession with power. The rest of the world can’t stop it. It is sickening. Our focus is on the latest atrocities and Zelensky’s heroic leadership. We want to help shift the tide toward justice on this global ship. Like you, I give money. I hope its helping getting food and shelter to the people who need it. My hope comes from human ingenuity and creativity. For example, I love that I can rent an apartment in Ukraine on AirBnB and know that 100% of those funds will go into the account of the ‘host’. Of course I will not be using the apartment and it may not even exist any more. But the mother or father that listed it may find these funds just a tad helpful. Ukrainian journalists, such as Svitlana Chernesk, ahave been interested in the unexpected support from the United States. That is how I got interviewed, along with other supporters, for this story on creative ways to support Ukrainians, such as the AirBnB arrangement: https://podrobnosti.ua/2443030-nozemts-bronjujut-zhitlo-v-ukran-takim-chinom-peresilajut-grosh-tim-komu-voni-potrbn.html While all eyes are on Ukraine, I don’t want to forget about civil war, insurgency, terrorism and violence in other countries of the world. Here is the most current list available: The fight to resist oppressive dictator and regimes continues. I believe in human resiliency and goodness and their ultimate triumph!

When my mom died 5 years ago exactly, at the age of 94, she gave me one last surprise gift. It was liberation from the agonizing, painful, suffering of grief I had experienced when other people I had loved died. My mom and I had shared the gift of time; time to say goodbye, time to express our love, time to take care of unfinished business, time to talk about her dying. Unbeknownst to me, that readiness, that sense of completion, impacted me in an amazing way after her death. I felt an amazing peacefulness, acceptance and deep, sweet, sometimes bittersweet love. I felt profoundly grateful to her and how she embraced her death. As a daughter, an End of Life Doula and hospice volunteer, and a human being who has experienced a fair amount of death, I think a lot about the topic of grief. I notice that people seem to fear experiencing grief for a loved one almost as much as they fear death itself. Does it have to be this way? The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude. -Thornton Wilder I have this crazy idea that grief is just love with no physical place to go. The funny thing about facing imminent death is that it really snaps everything else into perspective. — James Patterson If we embrace death as a part of life, would we live more fully? Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things. -Arthur Schopenhauer I feel my dead peeps close to me. My mom, Barb, Bert, Jeremy, Shauna, Michelle, Seth, Bette, Bob, Rob, Elsie, Irv, Mike, Sol, Fanny, Ellen, Burt, I hold you all close to my heart. Death ends a life, not a relationship. -Robert Benchley Holding them close this way, gives me more room to hold my living loved ones. It is mysterious but it is true. But you can begin to embrace life again, to feel alive again. … You can remember the loss without being caught up in a stranglehold of grief. You can move forward without abandoning those you love. — Frank Ostaseski If I open myself open to grief, if I get curious about the grief, if I welcome it as a teacher, I know I will experience grace. And you find your way in life without them in physical form. With awareness, the journey through grief becomes a path to wholeness. We are more than the grief; we are what the grief is moving through; we give ourselves to life. We don’t get past our pain. We go through it and are transformed by it. You can’t go back to life as it was before because you are a different person now, changed by your journey through grief. — Frank Ostaseski If grief is just love, then by this point in our lives, by our senior years, we have experienced a lot of love. I have experienced ravaging grief, numb grief, and the fatigue of longing. Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in life’s search for love and wisdom. -Rumi I received the gift of loss as deep love. This lesson truly makes finding our way, building our new life without them, so much easier. We are changed forever, yes. We are fully alive too and embrace life. We love with everything we’ve got. The grief moves through us and we are again whole. Thanks, Mom, for this final, amazing, generous gift.

It is so much fun to hear from women in their sixties and seventies that they are having the best sex of their lives! Fulfilling, satisfying, luscious sensual pleasure, whether solo or partnered is nothing to sneeze at. In the last week three vulva owners have told me just that. If I add myself to that list, and I do, that makes 4. Notice the big sh*t-eating grins on our faces. The clitoris is a beautiful shape, with finger-like roots inside the vagina, emerging in a button shape externally, near the opening of the vagina. The button like external protrusion is thought of as the clitoris, but really its a much larger organ internally, and it includes the now infamous G-spot. With 15,000 nerve endings inside and out, its entire purpose is solely for pleasure. Let’s ignore for a moment the need to rename the G-spot from a male doctor’s last name to what it is: the female prostate, correlating to the male prostate located between the penis and the bladder, also known as the male G-spot. But it really is not a spot, but a whole area, aka G-Zone. Taking the lead from Dr. Jennifer Berman, a urologist and female sexual medicine specialist, the G-Zone is the area along the inner front wall of the vagina, towards the abdomen. It is typically an inch or two in and up from the vaginal opening. The clitoris and female prostate exist solely for pleasure. Thus, it makes sense that we can experience pleasure in endless ways, configurations, and through a variety of types of touch. The truth is we are far more sexual than we ever knew. After all, we are orgasmic machines! At this time in our lives, our children are raised, our work is quieting down, we manage stress better, we are solid in who we are and are not, we have let go of past pain, and we are settling into our truest selves. Finally, we can fully embrace our sexual selves, put away forever the sexual shaming, trauma and denial, and open fully to our true, yummy, sexual selves. As we age, assuming our health is good, our stress is low, we can give ourselves over to pleasure with more abandon and openness, whether that pleasure is experienced energetically or sensually, or physically through direct stimulation of the vagina and anus, via fingers, mouths, penises or toys. It’s our time. Plus since we are inherently built to orgasm -again refusing the patriarchical denial of our sexual power- we are on a mission to close the heterosexual orgasm gap! It takes men about 4–8 minutes of stimulation to orgasm; compared with women’s 13–40 minutes. Lesbian sex seems to be a great way to decrease that gap. We waited a long time for this time. We didn’t always know how to make our own pleasure a priority and we got left behind plenty of times in bed. We are finally unafraid to ask for what we want. We fully own our arrival to this moment. That is the perk of being older! We are absolutely over any and all fear mongering that denies us vulva owners our true sexual power. Freud’s 1895 “Studies on Hysteria” suggested that higher education and careers ‘might siphon blood from their uteruses to their brains.” The gender with the ability to conceive, gestate, and give birth to human life, is also the one with amazing sexual width and depth. Our supposed ‘hysteria’, derived from the Greek word hystera, or womb, just might be the key to our wrath, our power and our multiple orgasms! So much for the incorrect and tired assumption that women’s interest in sex wanes as she ages. That may happen to some women- and men- for a variety of physical, nutritional, emotional and relational reasons, but not for many of us. If you are feeling desexualized, disinterested, dispirited or meh sexually, take some time for yourself. I know you have heard it all before but it works. Set the timer for an hour and commit to give yourself one hour to connect anew your own mindful sexuality. Run yourself a warm bath with lavendar and bergamot and rosemary. Throw in a bath bomb or epsom salts. Light some candles. Relax and soak, and then slowly explore your body with your hands. After bathing look at yourself in the mirror and share your self love with your reflection. Get into your comfy bed, with some coconut oil and keep up the self romance. Let yourself re-awaken. Touch the inside of your elbow and your abdomen. Explore between your legs and caress your face and neck and ears. Remind yourself what you like; record it. Validate yourself as a full sexual being. There is no rush. If you notice yourself getting distracted, just gently come back. Explore your clit and your G-zone. Take your time. Keep going. Make the space 2–3 times a week for a month and then see what you feel. Then keep going for another month. Give it time. It will turn. And don’t forget to treat yourself to a new, fun sex toy! Shout out to younger women today, you have a lot of wonderful ripening to look forward to! I welcome your comments! Please see my first rebooted enewsletter here. Please read other blog posts here.

It was 1988 and the category was Documentary Short. My film, made with Megan Williams, was called “Language Says It All”. It was about deaf children and how being deaf was really more about access to language than it was about not being able to hear. The film is on YouTube and here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3-3oZ_CHf4 Out of the five nominated films, it was the second best IMHO. The winner was about the filmmaker’s dad falling in love again at 88 years of age and was a charmer. It deserved to win. It was fun going to the Oscars back then. I remember seats next to Little Richard and the fun of finding that white leather dress and black leather jacket. I remember my first and only pair of high heels cutting into my feet. I remember my friend treating me to a hair and makeup session the day of and being so nervous I could not eat. I remember lots of bad gowns on inebriated celebrities. I remember wishing snacks were as plentiful as alcohol. Documentaries were still considered fringe back then. The Best Documentary categories were considered a joke and inferior to Best Live Short. But we- documentary filmmakers- persevered. We were passionate and dedicated to our craft and our belief in the power of the non-fiction form to create social change. We kept going despite financial problems and career setbacks. Documentaries have reached a tipping point. I was so proud today to listen to a show on NPR devoted to what the hosts considered the strongest category in this year’s Oscar nominations. Yep, you guessed it, documentaries! And the one favored to win, ‘Flee’, is nominated in 3 categories! When I was coming up as an idealist filmmaker, most documentaries barely got seen beyond the Film Festival circuit. They were considered labors of love; impossible to make a living by; screened on PBS at 130 am; doomed to obscurity. I remember the heartache of years of excellent work by my peers, barely recognized. But now they are beloved. People even describe themselves on dating sites as ‘lovers of documentaries’. People rely on them as a source for learning; books adapted to moving images. Documentaries reflect and advance our discourse on issues of the day. I remember when Hoop Dreams broke out. I remember when Ken Burns wasn’t yet a household name. I remember when the Aids Quilt doc received a lot of attention. “My Octopus Teacher” would have been buried 20 years ago. Now it is celebrated, discussed widely and applauded. So now, I am kvelling, happy to see the evolution of the field as well as the audience. I think David Byrne got the Oscar that year for Best Song. He said something like its nice to get the recognition but the real joy is in making the work. Onward!

I stopped talking about my unhappiness in the relationship with most of my friends after about a dozen years. They were sick of hearing me kvetch. Heck, I was sick of hearing me kvetch. I had decided to stay until my kids were launched. Goshdarnit, I needed to buck up! So 18 months ago, I finally cut the ties, kicked him out, and began to build a new life for myself. It's been mostly absolutely marvelous. The words release and relief come to mind. More joy. I have been surprised and pleased by the attention I have received in the online dating world (you can read about that here). A few of my friends have literally jumped up and down with glee or let out a huge sigh of “Finally!”. But that does not mean it is easy to break up a couple whose lives are intertwined and a family unit that is used to being together, even with the fighting and tension that sometimes accompanied us. It isn’t easy to see your former partner with someone new and to know your now young adult children are developing new relationships with that new person and their kids. It isn’t easy to not see my step-grandkids every month. It isn’t easy to not be able to talk with my X about things like making travel plans, or Trump’s sinister plans, or whether its a good time to sell my house, the house that was the family home. Everyday when I write my gratitudes, I almost always am grateful that I am no longer in that relationship. I am also grateful, despite the impossible, awful, terrible and unacceptable relationship we had, for the good stuff we shared for all those years. So, if you have a friend who is happily single after a long relationship, know that we still are going through the loss. Know that our cells in our being are still adjusting to being without our long term partner. Know that it takes time, just like any ending, to heal and find our way as a single person in the world. Know that in the joy and release, lies pain and sadness. The heart is fragile and strong.