Is there an appropriate time and way to speak with elderly loved ones about death?

My grandmother passed away. I never really spoke with her about dieing. She wasn’t really that type of conversationalist. I think that would have been too macabre to discuss with her.

My maternal grandmother on the other hand did speak with me about death long ago. She wasn’t happy about it. She was scared. She laid it at my teenage feet as if I might have an explanation or a clue as to how to console her. I think I did. I think being able to say it to me was helpful. It might have been enough to impress on me that her mortality was imminent. Maybe it was a primal way that humans crave each other, and a unifying act that is part of why I am the extremity of her own existence. A withering oak warning an acorn.

I thought of the elderly that I will meet as time goes on in my life. As my own parents age I’m sure this topic will be there. Looming. Maybe it’s better to ignore it until it is impossible to ignore. Keep it a distant thought. Nothing more than a curt chat of a burial policy, and the keeping of their wills.

I know my parents. It is not so much for their sake that I ask, but instead all the others that I might inevitably need to comfort. Perhaps it’s best to use my own hard earned judgment. To listen. To be human, and refocus on the life that still is.