Why Don’t We Just Say Someone Died?
I personally don’t have a problem with the “D” word—saying that someone died or is dead, but many people do. It’s that old belief: if we don’t say it, maybe it won’t happen, right? If we avoid the word, we might somehow avoid facing the truth. It’s as though saying the word makes death happen faster.
For me, saying someone has “died” feels clear, direct, and honest. I’ve never shied away from using the word, but I know that’s not the case for everyone. For many, calling it out by name can seem harsh or uncomfortable. I remember telling my parents growing up that they weren't allowed to die—that they had to live forever. I would say, "I wouldn’t cope without you!" As if death was something to be avoided or a taboo subject.
But the reality is, we’re all going to die. It's a certainty. And yet, we find so many ways to say it without actually saying it. The most common phrases I hear are, “the person passed,” or “they lost the person.”
But the truth is, I didn’t lose my dad. I know exactly what happened: he died.
I get it, though. For many people, saying someone “died” or is “dead” seems too final, too abrupt. It feels harsh, so they use gentler phrases, easier on the ears, perhaps. But I wonder, how many ways can we say someone has “carked it”?
Caitlin GD Hopkins, who created a list of early American epitaphs titled 101 Ways to Say Died, inspired me to reflect on the different ways people have approached this uncomfortable reality. It’s a fascinating collection that makes me want to wander around cemeteries, reading gravestones in Australia, wondering about the different words etched in stone to mark the end of someone’s life.
So, how do you say someone has died? What phrase or word feels most comfortable to you? And if you were to have a headstone, what would you want it to say? Just imagine it, even if you don’t plan on having one at all. What words would you choose to sum up your life and your legacy?
Some other links for inspiration: