CW: Death, Cancer, Human Composting

We drafted our wills in 2019 in the weeks before Jon went in for his back surgery to remove the tumor and vertebrae that had crushed his spinal cord. Those weeks were a blur, called into action, getting second opinions, vetting surgeons, trying to be as optimistic as you can when your love has been diagnosed with a cancer at stage 4 that had, at that point, about 10% five year survival.

Human composting was new to us. Our attorney brought it up because it added the option to our final wishes. Both of us resonated deeply with the idea of nourishing a tree, or at least just simply returning to the earth. When the time came to meet with the folks at Recompose for Jon’s funeral and final disposition, I was comforted in a way I never expected. Maybe it was the large, tattooed, septum-pierced and stretched-lobed funeral director that gave me ease. Maybe it was the fact that there was a joy somewhere there, in the carbon cycle.

We opted for a Celebration of Life at one of Jon’s favorite breweries, and later a deeply intimate ceremony with him at Recompose, with our kids and one of his brothers and his brother’s partner. Both Jon and I had a deep appreciation for religion and philosophy, and were in many ways anchored by our respective family’s cultural religious traditions, even if not observant. In some ways, it seems weird as city people that we vibed so much with nature, but it was there in our regular farmer’s market shopping for groceries. Our regular trips to the cidery on the Olympic Peninsula (where we hope to plant a tree with his soil.)

Returning to the earth, as much as it was his decision in life, felt even more true in his death.

Monday afternoon, next week, I’m due to pick up about 40 pounds of his soil. Forty pounds, which is a small portion of what the total soil amount is, because he was composted with other organic material so the microbes could do their work efficiently. A couple parcels of soil will go to family members who requested it, and the rest will go to land reclamation in a protected place in Washington State.

Jon was the kind of person to give back. It wasn’t a question. When he was approached for research study inclusion during his treatment, he said yes. If it could help someone, even just with his data, then yes. His corneas gave two people sight. The metal in his back from his surgery will be sold and them money used by Recompose to help someone else pay for funeral expenses. His soil will rebuild the land. And a tree will be nourished by him.

I miss him so much.