Barbara Wotherspoon lives in Massachusetts, where the legislature is currently considering the Massachusetts End of Life Options Act. Prior to her husband Lee’s death, Barbara supported his end-of-life wishes by moving to California so that he could access medical aid in dying there.
“We’re born. We live. We die. If we don’t enjoy our lives and help others do so while we’re here, why be born at all?” – Lee Wotherspoon
I will never forget the moment I met Lee. It was 1990, and I was an elementary school principal embarking on a solo road trip through New England during winter break. I had recently discovered the joy of hostel travel, and as I searched for open hostels, I found just four in the region. Lee, a man with a passion for meeting people and sharing stories, had advertised his home, the Natural High Home Hostel, where guests could stay for free if they brought a poem or story. Naturally, I brought my folder of poems.
A Life of Adventure, Connection, and Love
That was the start of a whirlwind love story. I never made it to the fourth hostel on my itinerary. By March, we were engaged, and by August, we were married in Antigua, surrounded by our seven children as our witnesses. Our life together was an adventure, full of spontaneous road trips, dancing nearly every week, and surprise mystery dates where one of us would plan the entire outing without revealing the destination. One of my favorite memories was taking him on a gondola picnic ride on the Charles River and then dancing on a rooftop at the Ritz in Boston.
Lee was a man who embraced life fully—whether it was hitchhiking on freight trains, attending a presidential inaugural ball, or sharing heartfelt conversations with anyone, from friends to strangers. He treated everyone with respect, often sitting with houseless people to listen to their stories. His kindness and curiosity knew no bounds. He was also an incredible father and grandfather, creating unforgettable memories with our children and grandchildren. His love for me was constant, and I’m proud our kids witnessed a model of love they carry with them today.
Facing an Unbearable Choice
But, in 2014, everything changed. Lee, who had lived most of his life with vitality, was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF)—a terminal illness that would eventually take away his ability to breathe. It was most likely caused by his time working in the steel mills of Gary, Indiana as a teenager. The doctors told us the survival rate was typically only three-five years, with a steady deterioration. We tried everything we could to manage his condition, and despite his efforts to stay healthy, by 2018, Lee’s condition was worsening rapidly. He was also diagnosed with severe osteoporosis, which led to multiple fractured vertebrae and more pain.
I stopped working to care for him full time, and in 2018, we made the difficult decision to sell our home in New Hampshire and move in with our youngest son in Massachusetts. It was an emotional transition. Lee had designed and built that house with love and craftsmanship, and it had been his safe space for decades. But, it was time to face the inevitable, and we knew we had to be closer to family.
Living Full, Dying with Dignity
As Lee’s health continued to decline, he began exploring end-of-life options. We were fortunate that California had passed the End of Life Option Act, which allowed patients like Lee to access medical aid in dying. After completing all the required steps, Lee was approved, and we moved to California so that he could have that choice. It was a choice I fully supported. Lee had always feared suffocating, and he had made it clear that he wanted to die peacefully in my arms, surrounded by love, when the time came.
Lee’s last year was filled with increasing pain and loss of mobility, but his humor and love never wavered. Even as he lost weight and strength, he kept his brilliant mind and joked that he’d gone from genius to “super smart.” He chose Leap Year Day, February 29, 2020, as the day to take the medication, so I wouldn’t have to think about it for four more years, as he put it with his typical wit.
The week before he died, Lee called each of our children and close friends to thank them for their love and care. It was a deeply emotional moment, as many shared similar sentiments in return. On the last day of his life, we danced together—he picked two songs, and we laughed and recorded a video with the hospice nurse. The last picture I have of him is in a special shirt I bought him in Milan, with me sitting on his lap as we tried to dance. He was weak, but the love between us was palpable.
Lee then lay in my arms as I spooned him, and at 11 AM, he took the Death with Dignity medications. By noon, he had died very peacefully. Lee got to die just as he wanted—with me holding him, telling him how much I loved him, and him giving me the gift of witnessing the peace in his eyes as he slipped away. It’s a moment I will cherish forever. I wish we could have had this experience back in Massachusetts, surrounded by our family and friends, but I’m grateful that he was able to die on his own terms.
Lee’s death was exactly what he wanted (and deserved). It wasn’t suicide or assisted suicide—it was a conscious, loving decision to end his life peacefully when his suffering became unbearable. This is a right every person should have.
No one should be forced to endure needless suffering or have to leave their home and family just to make this choice.
Since Lee’s death, I’ve dedicated myself to advocating for a Death with Dignity law in Massachusetts. I believe no one should have to uproot their life to access this option. No one should be denied the ability to make this deeply personal choice about how they wish to die. There is so much misinformation about medical aid in dying, and I am determined to set the record straight. We all deserve the right to choose a peaceful death, just as Lee did.
Join the Fight for End-of-Life Freedoms
Lee lived his life to the fullest, always seeking adventure, joy, and connection. He once said, “We’re born. We live. We die. If we don’t enjoy our lives and help others do so while we’re here, why be born at all?” Lee’s life was a testament to that belief, and I continue to share his story, fighting for the right of others to live—and die—on their own terms.
Please, join me now in supporting Death with Dignity—to help ensure that no one else has to leave their home to make this choice. We all deserve the peace of knowing we can choose how to say goodbye and where. If you share this belief with me, join me in signing the pledge to support Death with Dignity, and help fight to expand and protect end-of-life freedoms across the U.S.
