022 - "I know where you're going" and resources from Philip Yancey, Lydia Dugdale, and research.
Welcome back (or welcome)!
First, a story.
He asked me to close the door. He wanted to have a quiet talk with a chaplain about serious things. We had talked for 3 minutes and then the next doctor walked in. And the next. And the phlebotomist. And his wife. I waited. Eventually, someone decided that he needed to move to intensive care, to be cautious.
With three nurses, the phlebotomist, and his wife still in the room, I walked in. I made eye contact with him and said, “I’ll find you later.” He agreed. And as I walked out of the room I said, “I know where you’re going.”
The room was strangely quiet as I stopped in the hall to decide where to go next. I laughed. I realized that when you are the chaplain, simple phrases have different meanings.
I walked back in and said, “Room 3128”. And everyone laughed.
One nurse said, “Everyone was thinking, but no one wanted to say anything.”
As I walked away, I heard him say to someone, “I was wondering if he had some special hotline.”
The newsletter is called “Finding words in hard times” not because I’m an expert but because I’m constantly attempting, and faltering, in finding the most helpful ways to say things.
We did talk later, by the way. And both laughed about that moment in his room.
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And now some reading and listening for your weekend.
Philip Yancey reflects on long lives and the endurance of commitment
Philip Yancey has been writing about doubt and faith and life and death for as long as I’ve been reading seriously. He’s just enough older than me to leave thoughtful breadcrumbs. His mother died recently, and here’s his reflection about long lives and endurance. The Long View - Philip Yancey
A partial list of the tasks we face in grieving.
Last fall, I started learning about a bereavement model. I’m finding it very helpful, and am working on ways to explain it simply and helpfully. I’m not there yet.
One part of the model is paying attention to what are called “restoration-oriented stressors”. Here’s a list, from one research inventory, of some of things experienced by at least some people whose loved one has died:
I have seen that one or more family members had difficulty coping with the loss
I have taken care of practical issues related to the funeral
Some activities I previously liked to do with the deceased I now had to do alone
I have seen that the health of other family members worsened after the loss
Some activities I previously liked to do with the deceased I now had to do with one or multiple others
I have taken care of other practical issues such as insurance, bank issues, or contracts
I took on new roles that were previously filled by the deceased
I’ll come back to this research in the future, but I wanted you to be able to think more specifically about the tasks that grieving people have to work on. It’s helpful context as we offer support. And it helps us understand why it’s so hard to think when we are grieving (we have so much to think about!).
You can read the full research study about these stressors yourself: “Restoration-oriented stressors of bereavement.”
How really old stories may help us think more clearly about death.
This conversation with Lydia Dugdale was recorded on Good Friday, 2021. Dugdale is a physician and a writer who had spent time studying the way people wrote about death and dying in the middle ages. As a result of her conversation, I bought the book she talks about. I’ll write about it when I have a chance to read it. For now, here’s the conversation: Being, Living and Dying Well with Lydia Dugdale
Telling stories isn’t work, it’s helpful. (sometimes)
You may remember some research I did last fall. I discovered that people like to hear stories about what their loved one meant to other people. And they like to tell stories about that person and maybe even about the death. As you may gather with people for celebrations and picnics this long weekend, offer the gift of stories.
Be careful so I don’t have to see you.
And, since I’ll be working at the hospital Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, this public service announcement. Long holiday weekends bring traumas (often preventable), heart attacks (from people trying things they usually don’t), and other stuff. We see people who never thought they’d end up in the hospital so they never got around to appointing a healthcare agent. We hear regrets and worry and relief. So be careful. Be compassionate. Be prepared. Be relaxed.
Until next week.
Jon