Death Anxiety: What am I going to do if he goes first?!
I recently made a confession to my friend and clergy mentor: I -- someone who has dealt with a great deal of death and personal tragedy -- am sometimes struck by an overwhelming terror of my partner dying. It's a form of existential death anxiety that is particular to couples, just as there's one for losing your parents or a child. It's rather common, especially in women, and usually occurs as we get older and start settling into adult-related milestones, like hitting our forties. However, we rarely talk about it. No one likes to discuss a partner dying and it seems like such an absurd anxiety that no one else could possibly understand.
My terror is random and fleeting. It's certainly not obsessive; if it were I would seek counseling. No, it's more of a quiet acknowledgement that this man means so very much to me and that neither of us is getting any younger. However, it's more than that for me. Something only a stepparent that loves their stepchild could understand. If my partner dies before my stepson is 18 (he's only 10.5 right now), his mother will get full custody of him and I may never see him again. I will not only lose my partner, I will lose my entire family. Again. Add in the usual financial concerns, burial plans, and a very clear concept of what widow/ers must face, that fear of losing him doesn't seem so absurd.
So what do I do about it? I analyze my fears and act on them.
1. I'm afraid I'll lose contact with my stepson until he's 18, assuming he even wants to see me again. The answer to this one is to spend as much time with him as I can, teach him as much as I can, and make sure he knows that I love and support him. Everything I do with him now will stick with him for the rest of his life anyway, so I can't lose with this tactic.
2. I'm afraid this death is the one that will finally break me and I won't be able to think about what I need to do. I have always been one of those people that focuses intently during times of high stress and I go on automatic drive to make sure everything from coffee to phone calls to putting a memorial together in short notice gets done. However, my fear is I'll pretty much just lose my shit if it's my partner. The plan for that is... to have a plan. Have it all written down and in a place where it can be easily located. If I'm not in a frame of mind to do it, someone can pick up that folder, sit me down, and help me do what I need. Which brings me to my third fear:
3. Who the hell do I call to be my support system?! Normally you make that call and your family shows up, for better or worse, to commandeer everything. However, my parents are gone and I don't have any siblings. In this case, it's up to me to do two things: make my own family; and trust them to be my support system in my time of need. At this point in time I know that if I make that call, I'll have at least one person at my door within the hour and within ten hours my best friends will be either in my house or coordinating via Messenger from Chicago to Philly. Between them I know my support system will let me fall apart if necessary and I won't have to bury another person alone.
There are other fears that I need to address, like how can I ensure my financial security when he's the breadwinner of the house by investing wisely, keeping our life insurance policies up to date, and establishing my own small business that I can transition into a full-time career if I need to. By acknowledging my death anxiety and listening to what comes up repeatedly in my heart and mind, I can be proactive in making plans that will make the inevitable for both of us a little less chaotic and overwhelming. After all, the fears I have in losing him are logically also the fears I have in being the first to die, and I should make sure my own affairs are in order and that I have taught my partner and stepson the valuable lessons I want them to carry on in my name.
*** There are two notes I would like to add to this post:
First, I use partner in the singular, but I'm poly and actually have two partners; one I have decision-making authority for and one I don't. In this case, I'm referring to the partner I live with, co-parent with, and have exchanged that authority with.
Secondly, while this form of existential death anxiety is focused on the partner dying, those with chronic physical or mental illness may naturally have the belief they will be the first to go. Keep in mind this is not always the case and you should always be prepared from both sides. My mother had a very serious heart condition throughout life, not to mention several co-morbidities and a couple of neurological disorders. It was a given that my mom would go first. Although it took two years for cancer to claim my father's life, it was still a bit of a surprise that he died before my mother.
