We weren't too ambitious - we just wanted "to help build a community where we reconnect to life and death and to each other, reducing the silence, fear, and isolation that too often surround the topic of death."

That was the mission of Death:OK, Let's Talk About It, a 10 hour day of "inspiration, information, and connection" held October 17, 2015 in Portland.

It was a stupendous effort (from the Latin stupendus, to be wondered at): 500 seats, sold out nearly two months in advance; 170 on the waiting list before we closed it down; more than 60 presenters and 70 volunteers; two years of planning meetings among our all-volunteer crew; an unpaid part-time job for a few of us for a good many months.

Testimonials from the day are deeply touching:

We created a town square for a day, a place of connection. Ceremonial elements set it apart from ordinary time and space. Ancestors were praised; grief, witnessed and held.

At the same time, the day reflected back to us all that is so deeply broken in the dominant culture of North America, as much as it sought an alternative. Keynoter Stephen Jenkinson alerted us to "Coping, hoping, and - when all else fails - doping," the three-headed hydra that slays any possibility of a sane relationship with dying, grief, and death. He reminds us that if conversation about death is like every other comfort-seeking measure in North America, we're at risk of turning a wolf into a poodle so it will sit on our laps. He invites us to consider that death will not be domesticated, that the new fifth column of "death hipness" could well be the new boss, same as the old boss, as The Who warned in "Won't Get Fooled Again".

My jubilation over the success of the day sits side-by-side with sobriety, humility, and deep grief in the face of our pervasive illiteracy when it comes to dying and death. Coping, hoping, and doping have worn a deep groove in the years of my life - it's hard to know what else there is.

Jenkinson offered no easy answers. But he did provide a glimpse of what else there might be, if not coping, hoping, and doping.

It's love.

​For all that Jenkinson's unwelcome truths may have seemed an indictment of our efforts, he saw and named our work for what it was at its heart: a love letter to the place we live. A way of saying: We care. We're troubled by how it is. We want better for ourselves, for those who will follow, for those who came before us. For the love of all that is in the world, seen and unseen, we have work to do.

On October 17th, the day my Dad would have turned 79, 500 folks came together at Death:OK (Let's Talk About It) - a 10-hour day of programming that I and a hard core corps of volunteers spent two years coaxing into being. There's much to say about this grand event, but to start: some of my very favorite moments were spent in workshops presented by folks I'd recruited.

Kim and Carter, both clients, told their stories in Planning Your Own Memorial: Stories from the Frontlines. Lynda, a client, and Phyllis, and old college friend, shared theirs in Doing It Your Way: Personal Stories of Home Funeral, Green Burial & Remembrance. 

I'd pitched Oregon Public Broadcasting on the incredible content we'd assembled for the event, and they invited me and Lynda into the studio to talk about home funerals and green burial, with Phyllis joining us on tape. Click below for a listen.

See also:

• Phyllis's story of how she gave her husband Mark the green burial he wanted: Somewhere There's Music, How Sweet the Tune
• A short film about the home funeral Lynda Martin-McCormick and her family created for her husband David: Death DIY
• An account of how Kim Wieneke called on her friends to help her plan her own memorial service: A Little Help From Her Friends

The City Council Chambers of a small town in Oregon - Sherwood, to be exact - it's one of the least likely places I've found myself talking about death. But the Sherwood Library shares the public service building with other local government functions, so that's where we gathered: a librarian, a handful of local residents, and a reporter and photographer from the regional suburban newspaper.

I'm one of a team of facilitators recruited by Oregon Humanities for their new statewide conversation program, called "Talking About Dying." My first gig drew more than 30 folks for a wide-ranging discussion at Multnomah County's historic Central Library. I didn't know what to expect at the smaller town venue. When it looked like the two members of the media who'd shown up might be a good third of those in the room, I encouraged them to participate (personal engagement in the discussion is a request I've made of every reporter wanting to cover Death Cafe). 

They declined. Nevertheless, the coverage they provided advanced the idea with others. My facilitation colleague Jenny Sasser led the session that followed this publication of this article - over 30 people showed up to talk about dying. I look forward to meeting folks in Tigard on November 17th and in Canby on January 12th.

Check out the fantastic resource list put together by Oregon Humanities with facilitators' input!