Welcome back! (or welcome!)
Last week, I sent you a survey link. But I did nothing to explain it. Still, some of you responded. And it was helpful.
For example, because of your responses, I’m now working on questions about being helpful months after a death, understanding persisting grief, and grief for situations other than the death of a person.
It’s a four-question survey to ask you about the helpfulness of this newsletter. I’d be grateful for your feedback. The Finding Words in Hard Times survey.
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We want to fix things.
Last week, Nancy heard a short interview with Annie Sklaver Orenstein about her new book about sibling loss. When she was asked about why we have such a hard time talking about grief, she said:
“I think in our country, we're uncomfortable with things that we can't fix, things that we can't solve. You know, people want to say the right thing because they want to fix it and they want to make you feel better. And so grief makes us really uncomfortable because there's nothing you can say that will fix it.”
That notion of fixing, of getting over, of solving, is significant. As grieving people, we wish the pain could be fixed. As grieving people, we get tired of people being tired of our grief.
Here’s the interview: How to help others cope with grief : NPR
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When do you stop?
Last week, I got an email from a friend asking for words to help a friend. I won’t tell the whole story of brain bleed and intubation and care decisions, but at its heart was this question: “one phrasing she asked, ‘what is the Christian thing to do.’”
Here’s some of what I wrote back:
Those are hard decisions and hard conversations. I'm grateful that she had you two to listen. To not give answers, but to listen. And respond. And feel with her.
There obviously isn't a script for those conversations. Every time I am part of one, I am aware of that. And to talk about the Christian thing to do is hard because ours is the first generation with so many options. The technology has far outstripped the conversations about what the technology might mean. And to talk about the “Christian” thing is hard because there are so many options. For Paul, the Christian thing to do was much simpler.
And so I always listen and respond to the heart more than the questions. But there are a number of things I draw on, statements I often use, that I’ve accumulated.
We worry about playing God when we stop treatment. But is that any more playing God than starting the treatment in the first place?
The machines and all sometimes aren't about sustaining or prolonging life. Sometimes they begin to delay death.
I often think about removing the vent as leaving the person and the decisions in God's hands.
We worry about removing nutrition as starving the person. But our bodies, when still, need much less nutrition. And as we are dying, as our systems are stopping, we actually don't need "artificially supplied hydration and nutrition" as the formal description is.
We are afraid that we will keep God from doing a miracle and so we pursue aggressive care. We are afraid that we are breaking the command to not kill if we move to comfort care. But we're not blocking God and we're not killing.
The brain bleed is killing him. And God is present in the room (Matthew 28) and will welcome him.
This is never an easy time. And taking the time for family members to visit and to talk with each other and the husband is important.
I wrote a little about the time once the decision has been made: What I assume (but don’t know for sure) about that time while someone is dying. (substack.com)
This is a review/summary of a couple of the Christian books about these questions. This isn't for her, but for you to read and think through.
Talking about talking about death and medical decisions. (substack.com)
I realized as I was writing that I haven’t written enough about these conversations. And I know that I haven’t curated my responses very well. And so I’ll work on that. This is one example.
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Updates on my work:
I met with a GriefShare group in Fort Wayne yesterday.
I’m meeting with a group of residence life staff to understand how students can be supported (and talking about This is Hard).
I’m working on a Pastoral Care course for undergrads during October and November.
I’m building the first two research projects in my research initiative.
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Thanks for your encouragement and reading and most of all, for helping people.
Jon
I found this article so helpful. My mom has Alzheimer’s disease and decisions need to be made. It’s so hard! Thank you for writing about it all. I’ve been losing and grieving her all along.