I had a death in the family this weekend. It’s been kind of a lousy year for me what with folks close to me dying, nearly dying, being institutionalized, attempting suicide, etc. It’s given me many useful, if not exactly pleasant, opportunities to reflect on death and dying. It would be self-indulgent and preachy-sounding to share most of them, but I will pass along this one insight:
I fucking hate the term “pass away.”
I understand that people like its connotations of peace and transition, but “pass away” raises my hackles. Dying happens. Death might come in ways that are scary, violent, sad, painful or even ridiculous. But death is not offensive or perverse or a reality we should be protected from. It does not require an insipid euphemism. We don’t have euphemisms for “born” and we don’t need any for “die.”
I don’t know about y’all, but I am not some hankie-waving Aunt Pittypat who needs to have reality—even harsh reality—sugar-coated for me, and I don’t think sugar-coating death does anyone any favors. Using a euphemism doesn’t make the reality of death any less distressing for the survivors, but refusing to refer to death directly seems disingenuous. To say that someone “passed away” due to a car accident, war, murder or some decidedly non-peaceful cause strikes me as dishonest—almost ludicrously so. Unless you’re one of the rare few to die painlessly in your sleep of old age—and may we all be so lucky–chances are your “passing” was not the equivalent of slipping gracefully out of the room, as the phrase implies. Even death by cancer or a heart attack is rarely peaceful or easy, and it seems wrong to minimize human suffering, even after the fact.
Still, people treat the word “die” like a cuss word. “Pass away” or “pass on” is the go-to prissy-sounding substitute, although my religious friends back home also favor “went to be with the Lord” or “resting with Jesus.” The latter don’t bug me as much because that’s what your average God-fearing Southern Christian thinks happens when you, y’know, die. But you can’t beat specifics when it comes to conveying meaning. I was once told that someone “is in a better place” which left me wondering if he’d died or just caught the next flight to Maui.
Maybe people have good intentions when they default to euphemisms. But I’d rather they didn’t. When I die—whether by cancer, terrorism or shark attack—please just say “she died” and leave it at that.
me too. I find myself using it sometimes, but I would rather just be able to “died” always.
I’m sorry your messy year is messier still. And I extra-super-love you for using “hanky-waving Aunt Pittypat” as a descriptor.
Another offender: “gone to her eternal reward,” and, because I am a devoted pet-momma: “putting to sleep.” :/
I agree too, Becky and rodriguez..
Dead/died, it’s not ambiguous and doesn’t invite the follow up question/statement “I hope zie passed on peacefully”.
Hey Becks, I’m sorry to hear about this death. I too have always hated “passed away”, especially when it’s applied to sudden, violent or young deaths. In my life a know a few that have met some or all of those criteria, and “passed away” never failed to make my skin crawl. It also makes me think maybe I missed something that would make an innocent comment seem insensitive: like, I thought it was a drug overdose, but maybe there was actually a long illness? “Passed away” is confusing along with everything else.
During this shitty time, I hope you can reclaim whatever language you feel describes this this for you.
My dad died a few weeks ago, and while I will use “passed away” to be polite in business settings, I really prefer to use “died.”
In situations where I’m hyper-conscious of making people comfortable or how I’m perceived (usually business situations), I use “passed away” so I don’t send people out of their comfort zone.
That being said, “died” gets directly to the point and doesn’t sugar coat anything, which I prefer. Using “died” tends to nip saccharine false sympathy in the bud and acknowledges the raw pain associated with death more directly, so it just feels better and more real than “passed away.”
I’m sorry to hear, Becky. My sympathies.
I don’t like passed away either, for the same reasons you articulate. I discovered when my mother died that I really hated pretty much any euphemism, but what bugged me most were the misguided attempts to comfort us kids – or just to keep us from crying in front of them. I was told so many times that she was in a better place, free from all worries and pain, that it was part of a grand plan for all of us, and i’m sure some other doozies, that all translate to “she’s happier now”.
So…she’s happier away from us, leaving her kids behind, leaving her family, going to some reward I’m not even sure I believe in? Way to make a kid feel better.
It was always prefaced with “don’t cry!” Because apparently a kid crying at her mother’s funeral is a BAD or ABNORMAL thing.
(And I REALLY hope no one’s said anything like that to you, Becky.)
So sorry to hear about the death in your family and hope you’re doing ok. When my Dad died I noticed that my friends said died or dead but my Mother’s friends said “passed away” so maybe it’s generational. My father actually went in his sleep so “passing” was more appropriate in his case but I still found it rather prissy.
Yeah, my dad committed suicide. Even saying ‘my dad died’ seems like a nice, false, lie. ‘Passed away’ seemed like a slap in the face. Like ‘not only are we ashamed and frightened of your father’s death, we refuse to acknowledge that it is anything but a peaceful release for anyone involved. Also, shouldn’t you be over this by now?’
I guess because I don’t believe that we go sit on a cloud after death, there is a disconnect there. I don’t see death as anything to be celebrated or played down, thanks.
Anyway. I hope your reflections on death are not too traumatising, and that your own emotions and those of your family are bearable.
We really do need more euphemisms for being born, though. Like, say, “Sally took the Slip ‘n Slide on September 9th at 3:33 am” or “Kim regurgitated a bouncing baby boy last night!”
“Pete jumped out of the purse 22 years ago today!”
…But seriously, considering how squicky people are about thinking about what ACTUALLY occurs when a person is born, why don’t we have more euphemisms for that too?
@ Shadow Boxer: The flip side to that, of course, is “Why aren’t you crying?”, as if nobody could feel *gasp!* conflicted about the death of a relative—not in the “I’m glad they’re gone,” sense, although if a relative were a real scumbag that point of view is certainly not unjustified—but in the “Geez, I left so many things unresolved when they died…” Both my grandmothers died six years ago, and I wasn’t particularly close to either of them, so I felt a lot of pressure to “have” to grieve when in fact I just felt confused and sad to see my parents feel helpless, without their mothers, for the first time. My mom’s mom lived in Texas and I maybe saw her five times in my life, so that explains some things, but I saw my dad’s mom a lot, since she and my grandpa lived in town with us. Despite that, she and I never really saw eye to eye on anything—it’s ironic, then, that in the years since her death I’ve found that I share way more of her personality traits that I would’ve ever suspected—and since her death was because of her leukemia very (VERY) suddenly coming out of remission after seven years, I never saw her in the hospital as she was dying and the last time I ever saw her I gave her a kind of lukewarm goodbye, which I’ve felt bad about ever since. So I don’t believe there should be any one set reaction to a relative’s death, especially if you weren’t really close to them.
I’m sorry for your loss, Becky, and hope you and your family can be peaceful in this time.
“…considering how squicky people are about thinking about what ACTUALLY occurs when a person is born, why don’t we have more euphemisms for that too?”
My guess is because those squicky (smelly/ painful/rending) things happen only to women.
Laura: I’m so sorry to hear about your dad’s death.
And yosafbridge’s, and Kate’s (which has to be a particularly baffling sort of pain). And ShadowBoxer’s mom.
Becky, I’m sorry about the death. Thanks for posting this–you’ve captured a sentiment I’ve wanted to express for years. People in my area say “passed” or some version thereof and it drives me crazy. They wince when I say “died.” I’m glad to know I’m not the only one sick of the euphemisms.
I’m sorry to hear about the death in your family, and the generally messy year, Becky. I hope you’re managing ok.
I don’t like ‘pass away’ or ‘pass on’ either.
Since I know you’re a bit of a language geek too, I’ll indulge myself for a minute – do you know Nancy Mitford’s essay on U and non-U English? U was upper-class English, non-U was middle-class. She said that in general, aristocrats (who are safe in their social position) feel no need to be prim or proper or beat around the bush – so they will say ‘graveyard’ instead of ‘cemetery’, ‘die’ instead of ‘pass on’, ‘rich’ instead of ‘wealthy’, ‘house’ instead of ‘home’. She thought using euphemisms like those was a very middle-class thing, an attempt to be genteel.
Working-class people are another category altogether (if I’m not mistaken, they had more in common with the aristos – also because they were aware of their place in society and not trapped in the anxious-not-to-sink-lower state of the middles). I’d assume the fact that my family was solidly working class up until the very recent past explains why we tend to use the blunt versions…
We had a hard time with this after my husband died of suicide. How do we be clear enough to forestall the million questions but discreet enough to not seem crass or offend the Catholic relatives?
On birth, it seems we have few words for it at all. I only hear, “she had the baby,” which hardly acknowledges the mother’s amazing feat.
Thanks, everyone, for your kind words. I’m holding up well and so is my family. I’m really touched to hear all of your stories about your own families–and glad to hear that I’m not the only one who wishes we could treat death with more honest and open language.
@Endora: I hadn’t heard that bit from Nancy Mitford, but it strikes me as completely true. I also find that Jewish culture is much more straightforward about death than WASP culture. WASP culture—which is inherently aspirational and quasi-genteel—is the worst offender when it comes to euphemising death (and everything else). My Jewish family is much more likely to say “She died. We’re burying her tomorrow” instead of the WASPy “She passed away. The memorial service is tomorrow.”
Parenthetically, the greatest work ever about debunking the genteel denial of death is The American Way of Death by Jessica Mitford, Nancy’s sister. It’s mostly an expose of the funeral industry, and it’s a brilliant bit of research and snarkery about how Americans sanitize and commercialize death. There was an updated version put out in the early 90s that’s so worth a read.
@Becky: I adore Jessica Mitford! ‘The American Way of Death’ was a huge eye-opener for me. When I die, it will be cremation and a cheap funeral (but with a good party for the relatives, of course) all the way. And NO embalming! *shudder*.
I worked as a grief counselor, and one of the things our supervisor drilled into us was using the words “death,” “dying,” “died,” etc. rather than euphemisms. His point, which I agree with, was that people sticking to euphemisms are often not dealing directly with the reality of their loss.
When my own mother died, I remember ranting to my therapist about the same thing: “Why can’t people say the word ‘dead’?!?!?!” It drove me around the bend. She did not “pass” or “pass away,” she died. It seemed insulting to my own reality when people were stuck in euphemism land, and made me feel even more isolated in my grief.
This is going to sound strange, but I have a hard time with the word “died” (and most of its variations) because it sounds so flat and emotionless to me. And because it doesn’t convey how I feel about it at all, it seems like it invites people to ask questions. For example, when mentioning my grandmother’s death, I feel like if I say “When my grandmother died…” people then feel compelled to say about it, whether it’s “I’m sorry” or “I hope she went peacefully” or some other inanity, which just makes me squirm. I don’t really have a good alternative, though.
Hi guys, I mainly just want to join in with the bereaved and extend my serious and sincere sympathies to all you survivors on this post. It fucking blows. Anyone who’s been with their loved one when they die knows peaceful is not exactly the word that comes to mind for most. Torturous, harrowing, terrifying might be closer. I find “passed away” to be really depressing. Away? I don’t even know what that means, like, away in space? I’ll admit I use “passed on” with strangers, more to keep up appearances than anything. I guess “passed on” doesn’t really make any more sense than “passed away” but the vestiges of my religious feeling allow it more, like on the other side of the veil. But the majority of the time I just say, “I lost my brother.” That’s what feels truest to my feelings I guess. Way to make it all about me though.
To all of you who are in mourning for a recent or not-so-recent death, my sincere sympathy and wishes for a healing of spirit.
As Dumbledore said, fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. Let’s just say what we mean. Refusing to call death what it is doesn’t make a person any less dead.
People really do say asinine things to a mourner. The wisest advice I ever got on that score was a reminder of the Jewish tradition of saying-nothing. When you come into a house of mourning, a simple “I’m sorry” or a hug is all the mourner needs and wants right then. Saying anything that requires a reaction beyond “thank you” or that expresses an opinion about the death is always risky and asks more of the mourner than he or she may be able to give.
JDR: I was thinking about “lost” as a not-offensive euphemism, and I like it. It’s not for all occasions (or all deaths), but “loss,” for me, comes the closest to the feelings of disorientation and absence and impotent frustration that a dear one’s death has spurred in me. I lost them, I feel lost, etc.
I’ve been talking with the Dude about death lately (his friend’s Dad died in August), and how/if/when to address it. I think MM is right to not require a lot of the freshly bereaved, but the after-effects of silence, tiptoe-ing around mentions of the deceased, fear of engaging with the bereaved leaves them isolated.
Aaaand then we’re back to Dumbledore’s advice. In any case, it’s all about avoiding the realities of death, and hence redoubling the awkwardness and pain surrounding it.
I think part of the reason people shy away from the words die and died is because of their short, sharp sounds. Crash! Bang! Boom! Die! When telling someone about a death, particularly someone I may not know well, those words sometimes just feel wrong to say, even if they are the most accurate representation of what has happened.
I’m a little surprised to see that so many people dislike “passed away.” In my mind, it’s almost perfect, because it’s really no longer a euphemism: passed away = dead.
I like lost as well. The only problem is that it shifts the focus to the speaker: I lost so and so, rather than so and so died. For someone you loved, it is a loss, but when you’re talking about a death that’s not always the case.
And Dorkie, you’re right. It’s equally important to let the mourner know that if and when s/he wants to talk, you’re available to listen. You still have to be careful to avoid hurtful cliches, though. It’s never okay to say, for instance, “It’s better this way.”
PetiteXL, for me, “passed away” is too airy-fairy, especially when you’ve witnessed someone’s decline, or their actual death. “Passing” or “slipping away” is something devoutly to be wished, as Becky says,but not common, I think.
But I think you’re right that the monosyllables and hard D sounds do make it seem harsher than the longer, softer -ss sounds.
Sorry for the shitty year Becky and to all whose families have been visited by death. Death sucks in all kinds of unique and yet horrifyingly similar ways.
My Mum’s violent death a few years ago was my first (and still only) experience of a loved one’s death and I loathed all the “passed away” euphemisms but felt so guilty about it. That I wasn’t doing death right or something.
I reached breaking point after a week of seething over insipid remarks and fumed at my sister-in-law (the worst and repeated offender despite my other sisters’ requests for her not to speak for us):
“My Mum hasn’t gone or passed away. Mum was killed, Mum died horribly and it wasn’t her fucking time to go so stop smothering us with your shitty platitudes.”
And that’s what it felt like, that our raging, noisy, heartfelt, violent grief was being smothered and silenced. That the way we needed to respond to such a horrible, gruesome and sudden death was somehow inappropriate, disproportionate, improper. Instead we needed to box our grief up all neatly and quietly, tied in a bow marked “Mum passed away” and present ourselves meekly, passively for the comfort of others.
@JDR, PhDork and mischiefmanager: I kinda like lost too but the direct “I lost my xyz” (particularly about a parent) triggers irreverent Oscar Wilde associations so I can’t say this without feeling slightly ridiculous/false.
I do talk about Mum’s death as a loss though. Just not that I “lost” her. I think of Mum, her touch, her hugs, her smell, her smile, her scowl, her words, her wit, her voice, as being “lost to me”. Which does all kinda make it about me JDR but that is valid and real because death is also experienced by the living.
But what actually happened to Mum? Mum didn’t get lost. Mum didn’t pass on or pass or go away. Mum died. Mum is dead.
@Matilda: I’m so, so sorry. What a horrible thing to live through. I would have totally given you a standing ovation for that rant, though. Even awful situations have to be handled with honesty and truth. When someone dies violently, I think there are even more attempts to whitewash the death with really euphemistic language because people are so upset and uncomfortable, and don’t know how to discuss it, particularly with the surviving family.
@Matilda and Becky – thanks for saying that.. the significant person in your life is dead and has died..
I got funny looks from close friends and family when I would articulate similar feelings when a family member (one of my brothers) died.. even with a coroner’s inquest, there was still the white washing – I felt angry that there wasn’t a recognition of how he died by some in my close circles.. he didn’t pass away, he died.. and there was nothing peaceful about it!
Thank you SO MUCH for saying this. I have recently experienced some deaths in the family and I hated the euphemisms…..passed, in the arms of Jesus now, gone on, no longer with us…..I just stated it plain. He/She died. I too am southern and have experienced the oppression of the euphemism all my life. The expressions for death are just the tip of the iceberg.
@Jenna: I love love LOVE “the oppression of euphemism.” It’s such a part of Southern culture and it’s one I’ve always chafed against. I may use that as the basis for another post, so thanks!
[...] wanted to award a special Harpy Gold Star to Jenna, for her comment in the thread about dying vs. passing away. Jenna wrote: I too am southern and have experienced the oppression [...]
Condolences to Becky and all the others who have mentioned losing loved ones. I HATE “passed away” – maybe it’s my family’s love of morbid details but I hate the vague reference. As I’ve mentioned before, my older brother died in an explosion in Iraq. No, I don’t feel that is aptly described as “passing away” or even “dieing.” I usually say “my brother was killed” but on occasion my overly blunt side takes over and I will say things like “since my brother got himself exploded.” I figure I’ve got enough to deal with in the mourning process without worrying about how uncomfortable my grief makes others.
I’m a member of a Facebook group dedicated to my high school’s deceased alumni. A woman I went to school with from K-12 had died and as she was only 25 or so, several folks were asking what happened. Her cousin answered, “The Lord saw fit to take her.” WTF? That’s not an answer. 25 yr old women don’t just get “taken by the Lord,” they die in accidents or of illnesses with names. GRRR!
My favourite euphemism for death is “popped her clogs”. I tend to not use it when referencing the death of someone I know, though. Not very sensitive.
Death is confronting. It’s scary. It’s still taboo in many cultures. That’s why people use euphemisms. We fear death, and the pain and loss it causes to the living and the dead. Our cultures all have death rituals and rules about showing respect for corpses. It is part ignorance, part respect for the spiritual.
Euphemisms for death might shit you, especially when you are in pain. It’s hard to be generous and tolerant of others’ failings when you are suffering.
People using euphemisms are avoiding dealing with the reality of death: that’s probably because we are deeply uncertain of what is the right thing to do. There is no one right way: what comforts one person irritates another. It’s a deeply difficult thing, and has been that way for a very long time.