- 12/04/2014 - Half the Sky's NICHOLAS KRISTOF / A Path Appears
- 11/25/2014 - 'Read and Share' Book Club
- 11/18/2014 - UC Berkeley Department of Theater, Dance and Performance Studies presents REGENTS' LECTURE: LUIS VALDEZ
- 11/13/2014 - Presidential Inaugural Poet RICHARD BLANCO / The Prince of Los Cocuyos
- 11/10/2014 - London's School of Life's ROMAN KRZNARIC / Empathy
Daily Archives: March 7, 2010
Zoe Fitzgerald Carter was living in Berkeley with her husband and two daughters when her mother began to call from Washington DC to talk about ending her life. Carter’s mother, Margaret, a vivacious, intelligent woman, was suffering from Parkinson’s and a host of other ailments and could no longer stand the pain. She wanted to take charge of her life – and her death – by committing suicide.
But Margaret wanted the help of Carter and her two sisters, and that request, and all its ramifications are the subject of Carter’s moving memoir, Imperfect Endings: A Daughter’s Tale of Life and Death. Published just last week by Simon and Schuster, Imperfect Endings is already provoking discussion about filial loyalty, love, and assisted suicide. The book was excerpted in “O” Oprah Winfrey’s magazine, was praised in the New York Times’ Health Blog, and was picked as one of Barnes & Noble’s ‘Discover Great New Writers” books for 2010.
Carter will be appearing at Books, Inc. on Fourth Street in Berkeley at 3 pm on Sunday March 7; at 7 pm March 11 at Book Passage in Corte Madera, and at 7 pm March 18 at Read Books in Danville. In anticipation of her Berkeley appearance, Berkeleyside posed a few questions to Carter.
When your mother first started to raise the question of killing herself, did
you take her seriously? How long was it before you believed she truly wanted
to end her life? How long before you could accept her decision?
My mother started talking about ending her life eighteen months before she did it, and I did not take her seriously at first. I understood that she was worried about where her Parkinson’s disease was taking her, but I did not think she would kill herself.
It wasn’t until she got a prescription for a lethal dose of Seconal, and arranged to meet a member of the Hemlock Society’s “Caring Friends” network, that I began to understand how determined she was. Accepting her decision was a lot harder. I think it happened in increments but it wasn’t until about two weeks before she started her final fast that I gave her my overt support. I realized I had to get my own needs and desires out of the equation.
Do you think your mother knew how difficult her decision would be for you
and your sisters, particularly as helping her could put you at legal risk?
Or were her pain and discomfort so bad she could not think beyond that?
I think my mother was so caught up in the “how and when “of her death that it was difficult for her to focus on how my sisters and I felt about it. She had a tendency to call us up in the middle of the day and casually ask: “How would May first be for me to kill myself?” It drove me a little crazy, frankly.
On the other hand, she chose to end her life by fasting so we could be there with her without legal risk. (It is not illegal to witness a suicide, only to participate in it.) That was a very selfless choice.
But then – just to make things complicated — when the fast wasn’t progressing quickly enough, she took a large amount of morphine. Although she survived it and lived three more days, I found this really upsetting. It raised some very potent issues about the psychic and even moral meaning of participating in someone’s death. I don’t think we can gloss over that part.
Your book raises the question of loyalty. To whom do we owe it? Did you
think part of being a good daughter was helping your mother die?
I think this is one of the key questions in the book. I really struggled with what it meant to be a “good daughter” – help my mother kill herself, or talk her out of it. One of the reasons I wrote the book was to revisit this dilemma and try to understand it better.