There is this thing that went on in the back of my head while I produced this podcast: The people I interview will one day die. I know this is obvious. You will die. I will die. We will all die at some point, but for the people I interviewed, their mortality is edging closer than mine, and maybe yours as well. While I understand this intellectually, my heart really struggles with this reality. Sometimes the mind and the heart can feel so far apart.
This page is a way for me to give thanks and say farewell to the extraordinary people I’ve interviewed who have since died.
Glenn Buckland
On March 22, 2021, Glenn Buckland, the first person with a terminal illness that I interviewed for 6 Months or Less, died. When I interviewed him last year, he told me, “I don’t think I’m going to make it to my next birthday.” He was right. Glenn died just a couple days before his 57th birthday.
I thank Glenn for taking a chance with me. He didn’t know me when I first reached out to him for an interview. He didn't know how I would craft the episode, or his story, but he opened his heart anyway. I will never forget that. I will never forget him. His story will continue.
Listen to Episode 6 with Glenn Buckland.
Dylan Lawrence
On June 25, 2021, Dylan Lawrence took his final breath. He was only seventeen years old when he died. I had plans to interview Dylan just weeks before his death, but he got too sick, and we never got the chance to talk. Instead, I learned about him through stories. What struck me most about him was his otherworldly wisdom, his selflessness, and his desire to raise awareness about his type of brain tumor, diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma (DIPG).
Thank you to Dylan for wanting to do our original interview and for inspiring so many people to be better. And a big thank you to Dylan’s “bonus mom” Susan Lawrence for telling Dylan’s story. Your boy will continue to shine so very bright.
Listen to Episode 19 with Susan Lawrence.
Andrea “Mimi” Ankerholz
On August 6, 2021, Mimi Ankerholz took her medical aid-in-dying prescription and died peacefully in her home. She was surrounded by her husband and two sons, just as she wanted. Mimi’s family meant the world to her, and her husband, Jesse, was her rock. She described a type of love for him that most people can only hope to find. Mimi told me once that because she had a sense of control over how she would die, she was better able to focus on how she would live.
Thank you to Mimi for her kindness, her tenderness, and her openness to sharing intimate parts of her story. I will always admire her courage and determination to advocate for what she believed in.
Listen to Episode 18 with Mimi Ankerholz.
Clair Fisher
On January 26th, 2022, Clair Fisher died while under hospice care. She had a final blog post prepared to be sent out after her death, both to say goodbye and to reiterate that she didn’t lose a fight. Reading it took my breath away. During her last days, Clair was able to get outside, be near a garden, have flowers in her room, welcome visitors, read the newspaper, and have twenty-four hour access to chocolate ice cream. Her death may seem like the final chapter of what she described as her Dying Well project, but I don’t see it that way. I imagine that her project will continue to have far reaching impact, long after she is gone.
Thank you to Clair for her advocacy work, for breaking down the taboos around death and dying, and for showing so many of us what it’s like to live and die well. As I continue to think of Clair, I will forever think of the ripples that she has left behind.
Listen to Episode 15 with Clair Fisher.
Manuel Santaella
Manuel Santaella took his final breath on May 30th, 2023. Even though Manuel was 96 years old when he died, I was still stunned when I heard the news. A mutual friend told me that during Manuel's final weeks, he was full of "magical spiritual juju." This did not surprise me. Manuel and I stayed in touch after I interviewed him for the podcast, and he felt both like a grandfather and a friend. He would ask about my kids, send me messages on Mother’s Day, and we’d share stories about sailing. Every once in awhile, I would get an email from Manuel with a poem he had written. There was one line from a poem called "Pondering" that now seems particularly poignant, "I have become fragile as a butterfly...powerfully able to go as I choose."
Thank you to Manuel for being a continuous light, for challenging me to look at death in new ways, and for being a deeply caring human.
Listen to Episode 8 with Manuel Santaella.