26-May 2026: Death and Underwear
As a physician, I deal with death and dying too often. Some deaths hit harder than others. Sometimes you feel ready for it to happen, yet it still hits you like a ton of bricks in the moment.
A few years ago, my mother passed away. I was fortunate to be with her at the end, to hold her hand as she took her last breaths. I am thankful that I could be there as she had been for me countless times in my life. We talked (well I guess I did the talking), prayed, and listened to some of her favorite songs. It was just her and me, something which I will never forget. And when I said goodbye, it was a finality as now both my parents were gone.
In many respects, my mom had been intellectually absent for a few years, robbed of her mind by dementia. She was pleasant to visit with, but I was never sure if she knew exactly who I was. There were many times when I longed to go back and have a meaningful conversation with her.
In my mind's eyes, I envisioned opening up to her about my truth. I wondered if she had any idea about me and my fraudulent life, my attraction to men. Somehow, I believe that a mother knows such things about her son. Would she have been surprised, disappointed, or perhaps angry?Â
My mom often advocated for her children, even when she probably should not have. It would have been okay with me if she had held me accountable for my actions. It's difficult for me to defend myself and the deceit that I have perpetuated over many years.Â
Would she be disgusted by my truth? Would she be ashamed?
To go back and have that conversation with her would be meaningful. I envision a warm embrace and reassurance that everything will be okay. The cliche of "the truth will set you free" rings in my head. My mom would make it all better.
As I traveled the freeway home to see mom (6 hours by car), I had purposefully donned more conservative undies (not this grim reaper pair). I have this incessant fear of being in a motor vehicle collision and making a spectacle of a hidden thong or jockstrap when EMS and medical staff care for me. After the primary survey, they always cut off your clothes in order to expose all areas and assess for occult injury. The last thing I want is for anyone to see my skivvies under those dreadful circumstances.
One thing I would keep to myself even still is my penchant for underwear. No need to disclose everything to my mother! Am I right?Â
I think of my death quite often, more than is healthy. I think of unexpected, premature death and the aftermath that would ensure. My family would discover my secret life as they went through my belongings. It would hurt them greatly, that much I am certain. The coward in me is glad that I will be gone and not have to face them. And even as I think of it, I have a sense of relief that it all will finally be out in the open. In death, there will be no more hiding. Yet, I know that they will have questions that I am not available to answer.Â
My final hope is that I can die with dignity, die quickly, and die alone. And die wearing clean underwear, maybe this grim reaper pair! That might surprise the mortician :)
A men's underwear blog: My life, my underwear. I am a husband, father, physician, runner, and underwear addict (not necessarily in that orde
