And We Remember

Go do it. The words she actually used were ironic,
mocking in a loving sort of way. "Go do that stuff,
that you chaplains do so well."
€¨Young and important young residents darted around, they were doctors, and then there were the ambulance drivers, ˇthe nurses, surely they must know something about this.
I was a rookie, a theological student, I knew how to organize a meeting, recruit a volunteer, but this! I was sure that the nurse had mistaken me for someone else.

I went into the room, they were crying, a nurse was with them, she was crying.

I introduced myself and addressed the man by name, and then woman waiting for her response, acknowledged that they had brought Tody to hospital but that he was dead. I used the word. I expressed my sorrow, offered condoling words.

۬The nurse handed me some the paper work and left, she said something which meant thank you for coming. She excused herself, relieved.

This was the chaplain's job do it, please, do it.

I listened as Lilian told me the story, trying to get to the hospital in time. Hoping and praying in that long trip in the car, knowing that Tody was dead, denying that Tody is dead.

I listened as he told me that they had been vigilant. She justifing herself to me, she had done everything we could!

I assured them that I understood, that they were not to blame
I sat with them now, time passed.

She cried, he sat in shock.

Why had God done this? They had been good!

They had loved Tody. Can't they have Toby back?

They asked, they asked, were they bargaining with me, the chaplain....
or was it something beyond me, the mystery that I represented in this new found role. Couldn't the hospital do anything, they will be more vigilant...they will be .... she said she shouldn't have slept, one them should have should have been awake, or maybe they should have had one of those alarms, or maybe

Why had God taken Tody. They had been loving parents....they had been good. They had done everything they knew

Why!
۬I prayed with them and in my prayers held up their goodness, their loss, their pain, their unbelief in Tody's death.
I gave voice to their anquish and then I took a risk
I had no idea what would happen.;
I expressed anger at God....
I raised my voice and said "we are very angry"
Tody was a loved.. why
Lilian is a loving mother, Tom a loving father
Why?
And it hurts.

I repeated slowly the 23rd Psalm.....
Lilian and Tom recognized it....
and joined me in recital,

God thou are our shephard,
you lead us beside still waters..
you restore our souls.
and we said the Prayer of Jesus together,
ending with the Catholic ending,
deliver us from Evil, Amen
and we were quite.

and I asked Tom if he could take Lilian home,
and he said yes.
the nurse came as if she had known,
took Tody's blue body.
she came back in a few minutes,
and Tom took Lilian and they left.

I knew Tom, and Lillian in that brief moment of anguish
back then, back then.

The emergency room paged me and wanted me,€¹
the attendent had sent for me,
to do that stuff that chaplains do, so well.
Help them to let go,
they left, they went home,
Tody's body was taken by the nurse,
but letting go takes much, much longer still.

۬I am sure that Tom and Lilian will never forget Tody,
isn't that that what happens
when we lose someone we love,
we hold on for a while
until the pain of becomes intolerable,
and then we let go,

and then we remember.

Good grief
takes place in the fullness of time,
it is not rushed,
there is some wisdom on how long it takes,
but there is no schedule,

Good grief is not rushed.

There is a tendency among many well-meaning people
to expect that those in grief
should work through their sorrow
work it through in a matter of weeks,
let go and move on,

we express concern when a friend seems to go on and on,
maybe they need to see someone, maybe ...

yet there is no timetable for letting go
and we humans are not programmed
to mlake our remembering painless
without sadness, regret, anger,
all the stages that the psychologists have decided
we must go through to work it out.

few of us do it just right, though.
stubborn souls, that we are.

When I lost my father it was hard,
I took time to be alone,
went to the beach where I had dug clams with him
when I was ten.

But my father had died full of vinegar and spice so to speak,
he always able to complain,
to share his pain,
to curse
and ask for God's damnation on what bothered him.
He seemed to improve his aim in those last days.

۬But my Mother had been absent for years,
dementia, Altheizers,
she had slipped away into her own world
did not recognize me when I stood before her,
and she could talk about me to my face,
Clyde, he was such a nice boy.

My greiving for her was so different,
I had been closer to my Mother,
but in dying Father made more sense,
anger and pain yes,
but at least he was there and I was there,
saying goodbye in someone who was absent was harder,

Letting go was harder, remembering was harder.
images of dementia and absense
the time schedule of grieving
of letting go and remembering was itself loss.

now, I am more at peace with being my Father's son
than at anytime in my life,
But Letting go of Mother was never completed,
however anticipated, expected and a blessed relief.

۬Grief is a universal experience of humans,
part of being a person,
a fully relating person loves,
and a lover must lose our beloved,
there are no exceptions,
to know deeply is part of being human
and all relationships must come to an end.

And still Grief is so painful,
so disruptive of our sense of self,
that oftentimes, we avoid it,

Even though we know grief avoided can become bad grief,

Good grief is not an oxymoron,
when we consider the alternative.
the repression of feelings,
the displaced anger, the blaming
the we should have done it different

۬All of our thoughts of anguish
can be expressed in the grieving,
can be given their day in court,
can be worked out in the saying goodbye,

and if not worked out, repressed and denied,
transfered to another,
it can go on and on and on and on.....

When someone is lamenting, sorrowing,
figurively, or even literally tearing their garments,
to observe that their pain
is a sign of their healing seems absurd,

all of that baseless guilt,
objectless rage, disabling loneliness,
feelings of insanity, depression,
we would wish the symptoms away,
to suggest that these are the signs of healing
is to risk appearing less than emphatic,
less than compassionate.

۬It hurts....make it go away
you feel like you must be insane, out of your mind,
the anger, guilt, self doubt, lack of control are so intense.

and it is not a comforting thought to be told
we are mortals,
this is the way it is supposed to be.

such are not words of comfort,
such words seem so cold.
it hurts make it go away,

yet the pain of grief is the pain of healing,
much like the heat and sweats of fever
are the healthy body's response to infection
characteristics of healing

۬Yes, the anquish is a manifestation of healing
comforting or not
this is our human truth,
and it is the truth that leads us to freedom.

At some point the turn in the road will be felt,
the appetite will return,
sleep will be again be normal,
memories will come
with out the waves of sadness,
the feeling of being overwealmed with lcoss will pass.
the dissarray in our lives that horrifies us
will slowly become more manageable,
and we will still remember,
on random days, and special days,
and deep into the night,
we will still remember,

Already having died all deaths.
we will die all deaths again.
yet each death is confronts us anew,
and we cry, and we grieve,
and we remember.