Imagine you are lying in bed one morning, scrolling through your Facebook feed or clicking through your inbox. You may be clearing out spam or answering work emails. You may be forwarding chain letters or downloading pictures from your best friend’s wedding. But then you come across an invitation, an invitation to a party which is slated to be “unlike any party you have attended before.” How would you react if you knew this party would require “emotional stamina, centeredness and openness.” How would you respond if you knew the woman inviting you to this party was terminally ill?
How would you feel if you knew the “party” you were being invited to would be your friend’s last?
In early July, many of Betsy Davis’s closest friends and relatives were confronted with these questions (and more) when they received an email Davis sent asking them to attend a “rebirth” party:
Dear rebirth participants, you’re all very brave for sending me off on my journey. There are no rules. Wear what you want, speak your mind, dance, hop, chant, sing, pray, but do not cry in front of me. OK, one rule.
However, that was certainly a difficult request because Davis, an artist from California, was dying. The 41-year-old had spent the last three years of her life losing her battle with ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease. But when California passed a law giving terminally ill patients the option to “die with dignity” via physician-assisted suicide, Davis knew what she had to do.
Davis knew what she wanted to do, and so she invited more than 30 of her friends and loved ones to a two-day party. A party which would end with her slipping into a medically-induced coma.
A party which would end with her death.
Niels Alpert, a cinematographer from New York City and friend of Davis, told the The Sun that attending the party was “challenging” for all of the guests, but Alpert noted that their struggles were nothing compared to what Davis faced, and he had to attend the party to “be there for her:”
For me and everyone who was invited, it was very challenging to consider, but there was no question that we would be there for her.
Alpert added:
The idea to go and spend a beautiful weekend that culminates in their suicide…[is] not a normal, everyday occurrence. In the background of the lovely fun, smiles and laughter…was the knowledge of what was coming.
And the end did come.
On the evening of July 24, Davis witnessed her last sunset and then took morphine, pentobarbital, and chloral hydrate. She slipped into a coma at 6:45 p.m. and Davis died four hours later.
Davis died with her sister, her caretaker, her doctor, and her massage therapist at her side.
California is one of only a handful of states to allow physician-assisted suicide. Other states include Oregon, Vermont, Washington, and Montana — though Montana cases are heard and ruled on an individual basis.
Mark Twain once said, “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” And if these words are true, then Davis, her friends, and her family may be some of the liveliest people on earth.