Near the Exit: Travels with the Not-So-Grim Reaper

By Lori Erickson

"An ideal guidebook to facing the inevitable." Foreword Reviews

After her brother died unexpectedly and her mother moved into a dementia-care facility, spiritual travel writer and Episcopal deacon Lori Erickson felt called to a new quest: to face death head on, with the eye of a tourist and the heart of a pastor. Blending memoir, spirituality, and travel, Near the Exit examines how cultures confront and have confronted death, from Egypt's Valley of the Kings and Mayan temples, to a Colorado cremation pyre and Day of the Dead celebrations, to Maori settlements and tourist-destination graveyards. Erickson reflects on mortalityâ€"the ways we avoid it, the ways we cope with it, and the ways life is made more precious by accepting itâ€"in places as far away as New Zealand and as close as the nursing home up the street. Throughout her personal journey and her travels, Erickson  helps us to see that one of the most life-affirming things we can do is to invite death along for the ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Westminster John Knox Press
• Release date: Aug 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781611649550

Lori Erickson

Lori Erickson is one of America's top travel writers specializing in spiritual journeys. She is the author of Near the Exit: Travels with the Not-So-Grim Reaper (which won a Silver INDIES Award for 2019 Religion Book of the Year from Foreword Reviews) and Holy Rover: Journeys in Search of Mystery, Miracles, and God. Her writing has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, National Geographic Traveler, and Better Homes & Gardens, among others. She lives in Iowa City, Iowa, with her husband.

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Advance Praise for Near the Exit

"Open-hearted and soulful, never morbid, and often uplifting, Near the Exit is a colorful travelogue of mortality. I’ve read many books on illness and dying; few have made me smile as often and see the uniquely human richness of the final chapters of life."

—Ira Byock, author of Dying Well and The Best Care

Possible and Active Emeritus Professor of Medicine,

the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth

"Near the Exit is a delicious, funny, and quite moving read. Part actual travelogue, it’s also a spiritual exploration of death. The writing is stellar; the reflections on the unexpected nature of grief and the way Lori Erickson plumbs ‘seeming coincidence’ grabbed my attention and didn’t let it go. Highly recommend for people of any or no faith practice."

—Jennifer Grant, author of Love You More and

Maybe I Can Love My Neighbor Too

Erickson is our expert tour guide as she takes us on a colorful journey of the world’s sacred death rituals and destinations. Her vivid prose is our companion and invitation to the spiritual packing we needn’t delay until the night before departure.

—J. Dana Trent, author of Dessert First:

Preparing for Death While Savoring Life

"Near the Exit is not a typical book on death and dying from a Christian perspective. It is an intriguing exploration of late life and death that will sometimes cause you to squirm or to laugh out loud. Always though, it will prompt you to think deeply about what it is to be mortal. Author Lori Erickson fearlessly weaves ancient perspectives and cultural expressions about death gleaned from her own travel experiences into the intimate stories of her mother’s life in a nursing home in Iowa. Near the Exit will appeal to anyone who struggles to understand the mystery of death and dying."

—Missy Buchanan, advocate, writer,

and speaker for older adults

"What happens when a gifted travel writer combines her interests in travel, religion, and death? The result is a fascinating book called Near the Exit, with trips to Rome, a Day of the Dead celebration, pyramids in Egypt and Mexico, nursing homes, a Maori ceremony in New Zealand, a farm in Iowa, and more. Beautiful writing about a trip we all will someday take."

—Brian D. McLaren, author and activist

"When I first picked up Near the Exit, I found that, much to my relief, I had not commenced to read another grief book. Instead it’s a travelogue that explores a wide range of sacred sites—from the exotic (and musty) pyramids of Egypt’s Valley of the Kings to the Iowa nursing home where Lori’s elderly mother navigates the labyrinth of dementia—all characterized by a light-hearted and curious inquiry about what death means in various cultural and spiritual contexts.

As one who has been hanging out with the Grim Reaper more than I care to lately, I took this book in like a breath of fresh air. I hope Near the Exit will help others navigate mortality as Lori Erickson meets us wherever we are and gently invites us on a guided global tour."

—Kate Sheehan Roach, Director of

Content, ContemplativeLife.org

"Is it possible to become comfortable with the thought of one’s own death? Lori Erickson sets out on a fantastic voyage to explore the answer, and, best of all, we get to go with her. From the depths of Egypt’s Great Pyramids to the wide-open spiritual expanse that is Crestone, Colorado, Near the Exit shows us that it is possible not only to chart the landscape of mortality but also to make it gloriously our own. A hopeful and inspiring book."

—Sophfronia Scott, author of This Child of Faith:

Raising a Spiritual Child in a Secular World

Near the Exit

Also by Lori Erickson

Holy Rover: Journeys in Search of Mystery, Miracles, and God

Near the Exit

Travels with the

Not-So-Grim Reaper

Lori Erickson

© 2019 Lori Erickson

First edition

Published by Westminster John Knox Press

Louisville, Kentucky

19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28—10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, address Westminster John Knox Press, 100 Witherspoon Street, Louisville, Kentucky 40202-1396. Or contact us online at www.wjkbooks.com.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and are used by permission.

Book design by Drew Stevens

Cover design by designpointinc.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Erickson, Lori, author.

Title: Near the exit : travels with the not-so-grim reaper / Lori Erickson.

Description: Louisville, Kentucky : Westminster John Knox Press, 2019. | Includes bibliographical references.

Identifiers: LCCN 2019001529 (print) | LCCN 2019981014 (ebook) | ISBN 9780664265670 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781611649550 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Death—Religious aspects. | Pilgrims and pilgrimages.

Classification: LCC BL504 .E75 2019 (print) | LCC BL504 (ebook) | DDC 236/.1—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019001529

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019981014

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1992

Most Westminster John Knox Press books are available at special quantity discounts when purchased in bulk by corporations, organizations, and special-interest groups. For more information, please e-mail [e-mail].

For the Ericksons—Myron, Grace, Alan, and Carl

Contents

Prologue: A Tutorial in Death

1. In the Field of Reeds: Egypt

2. God’s Waiting Room: Nursing Homes

3. Joining the Ancestors: Among the Maori in New Zealand

4. Entering the Shadowlands: Hospice

5. Descending the Nine Layers: With the Aztecs and the Mayans

6. Crossing the Jordan: Funerals

7. Returning to the Center: Crestone, Colorado

8. Resting in Peace: Graveyards

9. Welcoming Sister Death: Rome and Assisi

Epilogue: At the Stones

Acknowledgments

Discussion Questions

Notes

At Chicago’s Day of the Dead celebration (PHOTO CREDIT: BOB SESSIONS)

Prologue

A Tutorial in Death

In the Chicago neighborhood of Pilsen, death was everywhere: splayed out on a beach towel like a vacationer who’d gotten way too much sun, dressed in a spangled tuxedo as it walked on stilts through the crowd, projected as a huge dancing skeleton on the side of a building.

I’d come to the National Museum of Mexican Art to attend the largest annual Day of the Dead celebration in the United States. I knew that on the first two days of November in Mexico, people honor their deceased loved ones with celebratory visits to graveyards and home altars set with pictures, foods, and flowers. During Día de los Muertos—All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day on the Christian calendar—the dead are said to return for a visit. Chicago, with its large Mexican population, is one of a growing number of cities that have claimed the celebration as their own.

After parking our car, my husband, Bob, and I passed through an open area next to the museum that held decorated altars, some set up on tables and others placed on the ground. A shrine topped by a photo of an older man holding a violin caught my eye, especially when I saw it was tended by a woman wearing a black dress adorned with a skeleton that made her look like she was wearing a portable X-ray machine. Painted stitches crisscrossed her lips and her face was deathly white with black eye sockets, but she also had a perky red heart on her chin and flowers and ribbons braided into her hair.

When I asked about the man commemorated on the altar, she was eager to talk. Her grandfather had been a talented violinist, she said, and then told me about the significance of the other items on display—the vinyl records he’d listened to, the foods he’d enjoyed, a picture of the ’72 Mustang he’d loved. At the center of the altar was a crucifix resting against her grandfather’s violin. I felt like I knew him, just from seeing the tokens and symbols arranged with such care on the table.

A few feet away, another altar included a more unusual item.

Is that a condom? I whispered to Bob.

The woman standing by the table overheard my question. After my son died in a car accident, we found that condom in his wallet, she explained. We’re proud of him for being so responsible.

She was happy to talk to us, too, telling us about her son’s academic successes and his love for his nieces and nephews. We admired his baseball cap, an arrangement of his favorite candy bars, a soccer ball he’d once kicked around the neighborhood, and pictures of him with his teammates.

As we ventured farther into the aisles of altars, I saw images of the Virgin Mary and Jesus, but much older traditions were visible as well, harking back to pre-Columbian indigenous beliefs. The hollow eyes of masks stared at me, the faces marked with symbols I didn’t recognize. Decorated skulls made of sugar were common, along with the round loaves topped with sculpted bones known as pan de muerto, the bread of the dead. Many altars had skeleton figures arranged in scenes from everyday life, from playing guitars and riding bicycles to dancing in ball gowns. Marigolds were everywhere, and I remembered reading that their color and strong smell are said to help the dead find the altars.

A long line of people waiting to enter the museum snaked around the corner and extended for several city blocks, while near the outdoor altars others waited to have their faces painted, often with the pallor of death covering just one side. In their somber black clothes adorned with skeleton motifs, many of them looked like they were on a date with the Grim Reaper. But the whole scene also had a wholesome air about it, as families and friends socialized and chatted with strangers who had questions about their altars.

As night fell, I struggled to make sense of the sensory overload. While I’d known a little about this festival before arriving, nothing prepared me for the sheer weirdness of it. This was death people were honoring, satirizing, and embracing. I’d been taught that dying is solemn and sad, best kept confined to funerals and cemeteries and spoken of in hushed voices. But in Pilsen death was everywhere, though not in its typical depressing form. Instead the Grim Reaper was having a good time, here at the Day of the Dead.

I’d come to this festival after a summer of loss—my mother’s entry into a nursing home with dementia, followed four days later by the sudden death of my fifty-nine-year-old brother from a heart attack. I was still trying to recover from other losses as well, including the deaths of several close friends. And I was beginning to realize that this loss thing isn’t going to get any easier. I’m of an age when I attend two funerals for every wedding. I buy sympathy cards in bulk, and when I stand at the checkout counter, watching as the clerk totals them up, I wonder what names I’ll be writing on the envelopes.

In the midst of my melancholy, the Day of the Dead was a burst of brilliant color. I’d been drawn here, I realized, because I needed a tutorial in death. I didn’t need to know about the stages of grief or how to make a living will; I needed to know how to live with death. This festival blending death, whimsy, and remembrance was a beginning. It made me want to learn more about what it meant to invite the dead to come back, and then bid them leave again.

I’ve long been curious about death. In high school, the results of a career interest inventory indicated that I was uniquely suited to being either a teacher or a funeral director. When I ended up being a writer instead, one of my first projects was a collection of ghost stories from my corner of Iowa, a book that taught me that if Iowans do come back as ghosts, they’re a lot like they are in life—friendly, helpful, and low-key, the sort of spirits who are more interested in rearranging furniture than spattering blood on the walls or tripping people at the top of the stairs.

Here’s another qualification I have for writing a book about death: I’m going to die. I don’t want to be rude, but you are too. And I think this fact is worth pondering before we get to the point where we aren’t buying green bananas any longer.

One of my most important lessons on death came from a comment made by Franciscan priest and author Richard Rohr after a speech. He was asked by an audience member, a man who worked in a hospice, why he thought so many people have such a difficult time coming to terms with their deaths.

Well, you don’t want to leave your spiritual homework until the night before the test, Rohr replied.

I’ve had that as a cautionary principle ever since. I don’t want to be the student who has to pull an all-nighter before glory beckons, trying to cram in all I should’ve learned along the way.

Every religion tries to help its followers deal with death: it’s one of the Big Questions that few of us can avoid contemplating. We can easily skip over the parts of the exam relating to phenomenology and hermeneutics, but the ones on death are not in the extra-credit section.

My own religion, Christianity, says that when we die, we’re resurrected in Christ. I believe this with all my heart. I don’t know how it happens, exactly, but I’m on board with all of it. I think we will rise on the last day, healed and whole, and that God will wipe away the tears from every eye, to use words from the book of Revelation, that text better known for its scary verses than its comforting ones. And I love that dreamy, gauzy picture that depicts Jesus on a cloud, embracing a man who’s just arrived in heaven. This is how it will be, I think, after I breathe my last.

Because theological consistency has never been my strong suit, on many days I also believe in reincarnation. I think that maybe we go to Jesus when we die, and after a nice rest we return to this plane of existence for another ride on the merry-go-round. In my next life, I hope to have a beautiful singing voice, a preference I occasionally mention aloud just to keep it on the divine radar.

I’ve come to believe that the boundary between life and death is more porous than many of us realize. I’ve felt this in places around the world, in quiet churches where beams of sunlight slanted across the pews, on beaches where it seemed as if I could walk across the water to eternity, in prehistoric stone circles that hinted of a portal to another world, and in cemeteries where I was ready to purchase a plot just to be able to soak up the serenity in perpetuity.

This book is about places that have helped me come to terms with death, sites that have made me view it not with dread but with acceptance, and even a measure of comfort and curiosity. Some of these locations require a plane ticket—the Valley of the Kings in Egypt, for example, and the Vatican Necropolis in Rome.

Reviews for Near the Exit

[azuremountain_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Enjoyable read. Much more a memoir than a travel book. Not too heavy, despite the subject matter. The author is a travel writer and a member of the Episcopal clergy. She laces her writing with a dose of humor and a dose of reality. I found her writing on her mother touching. I thought that she approached the places she visited with an open mind. I am not Christian and I did not find her references to her spiritual point of view off-putting. (Some other reviewers have mentioned this.) I don't think you can get an honest memoir without the author telling it like they see it. You don't have to agree to get something from the writing. The Buddha told us that one problem of human existence is that we think we have time. We really don't. But I would make some to read this book.

[over.the.edge · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Near The Exit:Travels With the Not-So-Grim Reaperby Lori Erickson2019Westminister JohnKnoxPress3.5 / 5.0Lori Erickson is a travel writer, and, also, an Episcopalian deacon. After her brothers death, and her mother was placed in a memory- care facility, she began this memoir as a "quest, to face death head on, with the eye of a tourist and heart of a pastor."From Egypts Valley of the Kings, and the Mayan temples, to Colorados Creamtion pyre....from Day of the Dead celebrations to Maori Settlements to graveyards, Erickson blends this memoir with spirituality and travel. Absolutely enjoyable, and funny, from start to finish.The cover is mole-skin feelings, embossed and really a stand out.

[sumisbooks · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Not very inclusive...This book is a travel memoir that is supposed to explain the effects of death and dying throughout different cultures in the world.I'm going to be one of the odd men out here. I started to enjoy this book but the constant reminder that the author is of a Christian religion really makes you look at the practices of different cultures in the wrong light. Referring to some of these practices as "icky" and the like, is truly a medieval and indeed barbaric way to describe such things. Some of these instances irritated me and others downright pissed me off. I understand that the majority of her audience that is reading this book is from a Western culture, however you cannot be so uninclusive and so presumptuous as to think that some of the audience of this book is going to not be of the Christian religion. I mean, you simply cannot just write a book about death and dying and tilt it towards one singular religion and not piss a few people off. That's it, that's all I have to say on the matter.There are also a few inaccuracies that I caught in the book. I won't list them out, but I feel as if the book was researched enough to write a book but not researched to the point where it is correct. The author does a good job in describing her own musings but that is nearly the only thing that I like about this book.

[seongeona · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I liked it well enough, and for those who didn't already know much about other cultures, I think it would be more enjoyable/enlightening. There is a nice set of group discussion questions at the end. I think this work would also make a nice, friendly, interesting way to introduce kids to the idea that there isn't just one way to view the passing of our loved ones. The humor, almost immature, was off-putting to me as was the occasional negative criticism of another culture's practices ("no freakin' way") and I kept being surprised to remember this was a deacon of mature age doing the writing.The connection between travel and the study on the topic of death was, I thought, not as clear as it could have been. Yes, she traveled to the places she wrote about, but I wouldn't place this at all under the "travel/tourism" heading. Not sure how I would improve that, but it felt vague to me. The best chapters for me were on ancient Egypt, hospice care, the Aztecs and Mayans, eulogies, and graveyards. They offered the most in-depth study on the topic, the most thought-provoking statements, and new info.I received my copy free from the publisher via LibraryThing Early Reviewers in exchange for my honest review.

[thriftyserendipity · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This quick read is a very interesting take on death in different cultures all over the world. It kept my interest by not delving too deep into one specific area. It was bot based on a specific religion which was nice. It left me with wanting to research these places more and finding myself thinking about my own death wishes. Great read.

[akblanchard_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Author and Episcopal deacon Lori Erickson takes an eclectic approach to issues surrounding death and the afterlife in her travelogue, Near the Exit. She and her husband Bob visit various places around the globe, including Mexico, Rome, and a small town in Colorado that is a magnet for New Age believers, with an eye toward collecting wisdom about end-of-life concerns. Along the way, Erickson seeks counsel from spiritual adepts from several faith traditions and even learns to meditate. I didn't find anything particularly profound in this book, but it is a quick, engaging read.

[randirousseau · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I found this book to be a very thoughtful, well-laid-out overview of various cultures' attitudes on death and dying. Though the author is an Episcopalian Deacon, it was not heavily religious (in fact, it was relatively religion-neutral), focusing more on the broader context of aging and beyond.

[victoriabrodersen · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Nicely fit into 9 chapters and smaller sections within those, "Near the Exit" is a not overwhelming, though detailed examination of various approaches to death and the afterlife. Dying itself plays a less prominent role among these pages, making it an easy point of entry for any standoffish readers that are looking to become more comfortable with the thought of how they would like to be remembered after a final send-off. Though written by a pastor, there is not an over abundance of church-talk. The unobservant reader will have opportunity to pair a few biblical passages with ruminations on death along with many other proverbs and prose from a wide range of source material (and cultures).

[voodooyeager · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Lori Erickson's Near the Exit is an exquisite insight into the realm of death and dying. I had selected this book for early review because I enjoy learning about different cultures' views on death and dying. I have a strange fascination with all things morbid. I figured it would fit my tastes. Little did I know that it would serve me more than just an interesting read. My Aunt-in-Law passed away this past weekend and my husband and I took the news and subsequent funeral very hard. On a whim, I decided not to finish my other book i was reading and start reading this one. Once I picked it up, I could not put it down. Lori's travels to other countries to experience these rituals first hand really show how dedicated she is to this book and her learning. I found myself along for the ride, seeing everything she saw. Her use of humor and a down-to-earth conversationalist style drew me in and kept me interested. I also enjoyed the fact that she didn't harp on being Christian. Even though she doesn't observe the same faith as me, she didn't try to cram her beliefs down my throat. She took a very unbiased approach that I truly appreciate. At the end of this book, I found myself crying. Not only for the loss I felt with the previous deaths that I have dealt with (both personally and work-related), but also for the compassion that she exudes. All-in-all, this was a fantastic book and I highly recommend it.