Unmasking Grief: Why Planning for Death Is an Act of Love
We spend so much of our lives wearing masks. Someone asks, "How are you?" and the automatic response is almost always, "I’m fine." We say it even when we are exhausted. We say it when we are overwhelmed. We say it because resilience is often praised while vulnerability is viewed as a risk. But what happens when that silence carries over into the most inevitable part of our human experience? I recently had a deeply moving conversation with Mirtha Peña, a Somatic Stress Release Coach, on the Digital Legacy Podcast. We spoke about her beloved brother, Richard, who passed away unexpectedly. While Richard was the life of the party, successful, kind, and outwardly happy, he was privately carrying a heavy burden of anxiety and depression that he felt he could not share. His story highlights a critical intersection that we rarely discuss. It is the connection between our nervous system, our unexpressed grief, and the administrative chaos we leave behind when we die without a plan.
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We spend so much of our lives wearing masks.
Someone asks, "How are you?" and the automatic response is almost always, "I’m fine."
We say it even when we are exhausted. We say it when we are overwhelmed.
We say it because resilience is often praised while vulnerability is viewed as a risk.
But what happens when that silence carries over into the most inevitable part of our human experience?
I recently had a deeply moving conversation with Mirtha Peña, a Somatic Stress Release Coach, on the Digital Legacy Podcast.
We spoke about her beloved brother, Richard, who passed away unexpectedly.
While Richard was the life of the party, successful, kind, and outwardly happy, he was privately carrying a heavy burden of anxiety and depression that he felt he could not share.
His story highlights a critical intersection that we rarely discuss. It is the connection between our nervous system, our unexpressed grief, and the administrative chaos we leave behind when we die without a plan.
The Body Keeps the Score
We often think of trauma as something that only happens in war zones or during catastrophic events.
However, Mirtha shared that there is something called "complex post-traumatic stress disorder" or CPTSD. This can arise from prolonged, chronic stress or emotional unavailability during childhood.
When we do not have safe spaces to express our emotions, our bodies take over.
We might try to numb the feelings with work, alcohol, or scrolling endlessly through social media.
We press the gas pedal on our lives, but our bodies are slamming on the brakes.
Eventually, the body pulls the emergency brake.
For some, this looks like deep depression. For others, it results in a tragic decision to end the pain.
Richard’s story is a heartbreaking reminder that we need to stop saying "I'm okay" when we are not.
We need to find safe connections and people who can witness our pain without judgment.
But the tragedy of his loss did not end with his death.
The Tsunami of Grief
Grief is natural. It is supposed to move like the ocean. Waves come, wash over you, and then recede.
It is a painful but necessary process of healing.
However, when someone dies without a will or a plan, that natural flow is interrupted.
Mirtha described the aftermath of her brother's death not as waves, but as a "tsunami."
Because Richard died "intestate," meaning without a will, the family was immediately thrown into a legal and administrative nightmare.
Instead of sitting with their memories and comforting one another, they were fighting battles they never anticipated.
Unexpected Conflict
Without legal instructions, people from the past can resurface and claim authority.
In Mirtha’s case, a former partner from twenty years ago appeared. They tried to dictate funeral arrangements against the family's wishes.
It turned a time of mourning into a week of high-conflict drama.
This is the hidden cost of silence. When we do not use our voice to document our wishes while we are alive, we leave the door open for confusion and conflict after we are gone.
The Lingering Digital Ghost
Then there was the digital realm.
Richard lived a large life online with multiple social media accounts. Yet he left no passwords and no "legacy contacts."
This created what Mirtha calls a "lingering ghost."
His accounts remained active. Notifications kept popping up.
Worse, scammers set up a fake fundraising account using his likeness to profit from the tragedy.
Imagine trying to grieve your brother while simultaneously fighting with customer support bots.
Imagine trying to prove your right to close an account while watching strangers interact with his digital profile as if he were still here.
It extends the pain. It denies the family closure.
Organization is Emotional Regulation
This is where the worlds of somatic therapy and digital legacy collide.
We often view estate planning, wills, and password managers as boring, cold administrative tasks.
We put them off because we do not want to think about death. It feels morbid.
But if we look at it through the lens of nervous system regulation, planning is actually an act of profound care.
When you organize your affairs, you are protecting the nervous systems of the people you love.
You are ensuring that when the time comes, they can simply be.
They can cry. They can hold each other. They can remember you.
They will not have to spend hours on hold with a bank.
They will not have to hire lawyers to fight for the right to bury you with dignity.
They will not have to stare at a locked iPhone, desperate for one last photo or message they cannot access.
Breaking the Taboo
In many cultures, like the Dominican culture Mirtha grew up in, death is a huge taboo.
You tuck it away. You do not talk about it.
But ignoring it does not make it go away. It just ensures that when it happens, it will be chaotic.
We assume we have time. Richard was young. He likely thought he had decades to write a will or share his passwords.
But as Mirtha poignantly reminded me, death is the only guarantee we have in life. We are all just walking each other home.
A Legacy of Healing
Mirtha is now using her experience to help others through her community, Batay Life.
She is teaching people to reconnect with their bodies, to rest without guilt, and to live authentically.
Her resilience is inspiring. She is choosing to speak about the unspeakable so that others do not have to suffer in the same way.
Let us honor that wisdom.
Let us look at our "stuff", our physical assets, our digital accounts, and our emotional baggage, and start to sort through it.
By clearing the clutter now, we leave space for love later.
We ensure that our legacy is not one of chaos and confusion, but one of peace and connection.
Small Steps Toward Peace
If you are reading this and feeling a tightening in your chest, take a deep breath.
You do not have to do everything today. You do not need to solve every problem or organize every digital file by sunset.
But you can take one small step to lower the burden on those you love.
Designate a Legacy Contact: Most social media platforms like Facebook and Apple allow you to name someone who can manage your account after you pass. It takes two minutes to set up.
Write it Down: Even if you do not have a formal will yet, write down your wishes. Do you want to be buried or cremated? Who should take care of your pet?
Share One Password: Do you have a master password for your computer or phone? Make sure one trusted person knows how to access it or where to find it in an emergency.
Check In Honestly: Ask the people you love how they are really doing. Create a space where they do not have to wear the mask.
To hear Mirtha Peña's full conversation with Niki Weiss, watch the episode on The Digital Legacy Podcast.
Take the Next Step: Start Planning with My Final Playbook
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