091 - A little acknowledgement is a big gift.

Welcome back (or welcome!)

I’ve been busy since the last time we spoke, between a couple extra shifts and finishing grading for a course in pastoral care.

A little story will have to suffice today. Although it was a big story for the person involved.

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The memorial service

Every year, our chaplaincy department sponsors a memorial service. We invite the families of people who have died in our hospitals, though we don’t invite everyone. The families of people who were on hospice have their own memorial services.

There are, of course, other ways to do group memorial services. I heard this week about a hospital that hosted a service like this. Funeral homes in the area provided the names, so it was deaths in general, not just hospital deaths. The people who attended got an ornament with their loved one’s name and birth and death dates.

We just have our people. And most of our fourteen chaplains are present, the chaplains who responded to every one of those deaths, who offered support and asked, in an appropriate way, whether they had decided on a funeral home. (I tell you that because we are part of the paper trail of dying, part of chaplaincy that is not always known.)

We have a welcome, some readings, some music, a short message, and a word from our executive leadership. My friend Dan, who is both a chaplain and a guy whose dad died about a year ago, talked to us this year. He talked about how often the people who try to give answers and explain the meaning of his dad’s death aren’t very helpful. He talked about the Shepherd who is quietly present.

And then we have a series of slides with the names of the loved ones who have family present. At that point I say,

On the screens in front of you will be names. There will be 9-10 names on each slide.

You’ll see a name or two that you know, that you are here for.

These names, of people who have died and are remembered, are reminders that we are not so much remembering a tragedy or illness, we are remembering people.

With names and stories.

Some are stories of what they did in their lives. Some are stories of what we were longing to do with them.

When the name of your loved one (or loved ones) appears on the screen, I invite you to stand. And we will be standing with you.

And then you can be seated.

If you are joining us online, you can type the name of your loved one in the comments.

And then there is some music and the slides show.

After that I point to some resources and thank people who were involved, and then I offer this blessing.

A PRAYER AND A BLESSING FOR A MEMORIAL SERVICE.

God.

We’ve traveled here with our hearts and our tears and our stories.
We opened them all up, a little, to you and to each other.

It’s been hard.
It’s been scary.
It’s been good.

And now we will bundle up in our coats again and leave this place.

I ask you to help us leave a little of the fear here.
I ask you to help us take a little of the healing with us.
The healing that comes from knowing that
-though we are lonely, we are not alone.
-though we are sad, we are not forlorn.
-though we are hesitant, we are still courageous.
-though we were uncertain, we still met here.

Amen.

And together, we offer this wish.
May you find some gentleness in this holiday season.

You are dismissed.

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As people were leaving the other night, I started talking to someone tending a child about the age of our grandson. When I see kids these days, I try to offer understanding of the sheer energy of two-year-olds in the midst of remembrance of death.

I learned that a mom had a miscarriage. She was invited to the memorial service. She immediately sent a text to family members inviting them.

And so, when the name of a person who took no breaths was on the screen, eight people stood up together.

This was the memorial service for child, that person, who had not had any other formal service. This was the memorial service for that mom, who hadn’t had people stand alongside her.

The two-year-old tender was the aunt of the name on the screen. She had told me the story. Mom walked over. I thanked her for coming.

“It gives closure,” she said as she looked at me.

I smiled. “Not so much closure,” I said, “as acknowledgement.” She smiled a bit and nodded.

So here’s the lesson.

She was invited. She invited. They stood. She smiled. A little.

If you want to know what to buy for someone whose baby and dreams died this year, there’s nothing you can buy. But consider giving the gift of acknowledging.

Thanks for stopping by. Feel free to let this be a memorial service for you, too.

See you next week.

Jon

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On the table at the back for families were copies of This is Hard: What I Say When Loved Ones Die. You can buy them. But if you need a copy for yourself, send me an email with your address to jon.swanson@socialmediachaplain.com and I’ll get you to you, thanks to those who support this work.