Yesterday, June 14, at 9:50 AM, our dear friend, Alexander Nakatani, retired social worker for the Veterans Administration transitioned to the heavenly realm, with his beloved wife, Jane, a retired elementary school teacher at his side. He was 86. The cause of death was cancer of the spine. In the face of heartbreaking tragedy they had lost three sons, Glen, Greg and Guy. Two from AIDS and one from a gunshot wound by an illegal immigrant over a parking space. The story is told by author Molly Fumia, an expert on the grieving process, in “Honor Thy Children” (Conari Press). The book tells the story of the family’s trajectory from homophobia and denial to emotional healing. Initially horrified to learn that Guy, their youngest son, was gay, the anger and shame they initially experienced was replaced with unconditional love. I had met Al and Guy, their last son to die of HIV when I attended a talk they had given at a local high school, that Cecile recommended I attend. Guy died in 1994 a the age of 26. Cecile and I became supporters of the Honor Thy Children Foundation. Al and Jane moved to Maui, and we would make it a priority to have them join us for lunch on Kaanapali Beach where Cecile and I took our annual family vacation.
Back in the day, I decided to do a silent 10-day meditation retreat at the Silver Cloud Ranch on Mt. Haleakala. At the end retreat we were gifted a beautiful Lei. I managed to get two more and had the privilege to place them on the tombstone of Al and Jane’s sons: Glen, Greg and Guy.
Not too long ago, I received an email from Al, stating he had stage 4 cancer of the spine, and he was going to have Hospice come to his and Jane’s home. We spoke by phone and it was the most intimate conversation I have ever had with someone who was dying. Al, shared with me he wanted to chronicle his dying experience. So Cecile and I became one of over 70 people within his circle that had received status updates. It turned out to be tutorial of sorts of how to accept one’s mortality.
Al, Thank you so much for courageously, lovingly, compassionately, consciously, and transparently sharing the stages you went through in your final journey. We will treasure them always. You showed us how to "Die The Good Death.” Ars moreindi—a Latin term meaning—“the art of dying” was coined in 1415 when a Dominican friar published a book instructing its readers how to achieve “the good death.” This amounted to spending one’s last days reflecting on triumphs, surrounded by family and friends with a sense of fulfillment rather than despair. For centuries, a “good death” was considered the ultimate culmination of a successful life and was diligently sought by many. Today, a clear obstacle stands in the way of those of us who would do the same—a deep aversion to death. By failing to confront our own mortality and by consistently avoiding difficult conversations with those who are terminally ill, we are doing ourselves a disservice and making “the good death” nearly impossible for those we cherish.
We are so grateful for your willingness to share your final journey with all of us with such candor and openness. it is a true gift and blessing to us all. When we spoke by phone awhile back, I was humbled by the fact that you had made peace with your prognosis, and was preparing for your passing. You were essentially saying goodbye, letting us know you love us, that you feel a spiritual connection to us all, and that you were ready to follow the natural progression and evolution of all living things.
E ho’omaha me ka maluhia (Rest in peace!)
Dennis and Cecile Augustine
P.S. Jane, we are sending hugs and love your way. We are so happy to hear that Al was able to complete the HTC (Honor Thy Children) Sanctuary and do the Ken Fong Podcast in early May while he still had the strength too do it.
