090 - Gifts, funeral clothes, and the old people: three stories.

Welcome back (or welcome!)

It’s possible that I think about grief a bit much. Not so much my own, but about ways to be helpful (and things that aren’t).

Here are three stories from my last month. And a link to me telling a story in this week’s podcast. (Which means that “Finding Words in Hard Times - the podcast” is back!)

And here’s a picture of Nancy and me.

How many sets of wind chimes is too many?

There’s a reason we talk about listening to people who are grieving. There’s a reason that we offer lists of different kinds of support.

My friend told me about a friend who ended up with three sets of wind chimes when his brother died. Three sets of personalized wind chimes.

My guess is that one set came from someone who likes wind chimes. One set came from the funeral home website that had “creative gifts.” (or from Amazon where there are so many options!) The third set came from somewhere. All were well meaning. But none of them came from conversation with him. A twenty-something who shares an apartment.

We’ve talked about other options. Last week I shared a couple lists of other options. I invite us all to consider asking before giving, to consider the person’s situation rather than our own likes.

And I’m grateful that this guy was part of a group where he was comfortable enough to talk about this. Not a grief group, but a group of friends. (None of them gave him wind chimes.)

Meanwhile, what does one do with three sets of personalized wind chimes? Does anyone have a depersonalizing service?

+++

When you become the old people.

Nancy and I were in the car, heading to a funeral. I knew the person who died. I knew better the pastor leading the funeral service. And one of the other attendees. And cared about a couple others who would be there.

I was going to offer support, and Nancy was coming to support me.

As we pulled out of the driveway, I said, “It’s a little funny to be wearing a sweater.”

A few miles later, I started to laugh.

“We are the old people. We can decide what to wear.”

• I realized that no one at the service, at least no one whose opinion I cared about, would care that I was wearing a sweater and slacks rather than a suit.

• I realized that our generation are not the oldest people in attendance but are the old people.

• And I realized that Jane wouldn’t have cared about me wearing a sweater.

But this isn’t just about clothing trends changing. I’m not suggesting attire defiance. I’m thinking about the why of attending the funeral.

We were showing up to pay respects, I suppose, but also to provide presence. And not to everyone, but to the people I care about. For them, being clothed in withness was the most appropriate thing. And a suit and tie didn’t matter.

+++

When the old people leave the room.

I’d been with the family at the time of death. She was too young (which is younger than me).

I stepped out of the room to take care of the administrative details of death. There are questions we address between the nurse and the chaplain.

After a bit, I looked through the observation window. There were fewer people in the room. The older people had gone. The pastor had gone. The woman’s mother had died a few months back, so she was gone, too.

The younger generation were left with the body.

Her son, who I would soon ask about a funeral home. His cousins. People who could be my kids, or younger, now seeing death, now navigating grief.

It reminded me of the importance of the conversations we are having here and elsewhere about finding words in hard times.

Last summer I mentioned eight things a survey found bereaved people would like to be true. They include:

I am well supported before and during the death, and feel confident that the person who died received appropriate and compassionate care.

and

The things I must do after a death are simple and straightforward.

I slid the door open and knelt in front of her son. I offered him eye contact, a little wet around the edges, and we talked about the next steps. Before I left, I offered him a hug. He accepted the offer.

+++

Finding words in hard times - the podcast is back.

Last winter, I started a podcast, both audio and video. I made it through 10 episodes and then stopped. The goal had been a weekly podcast, and I ran out of energy.

I decided this week to think about that as the first season. Suddenly, I didn’t fail at a weekly podcast, I succeeded at the first season of “Finding Words in Hard Times - the podcast.”

That felt much better.

This week I released a special holiday episode: 7 hints for navigating grief during the holidays (on YouTube). It’s a video and audio version of a post I shared here last year. And it’s part of our story of grief.

If it’s helpful, I’d appreciate you sharing it.

You can listen to the episode here.

+++

Thanks for your encouragement to me and more importantly, for your help to others.

Jon