In the last week, I have met two sets of parents, to put together the funeral of their children. One is an adult child, the other, a little girl who had been poorly since birth.
The striking thing about these meetings (both deaths were unexpected, despite difficult histories) was how incredibly calm the parents were. By contrast, I met a stereotypical "little old lady" the week before who had lost her husband of sixty years and was giving off vibes of fear at the dark future without him that was opening up before her.
I had been dreading the meeting with the younger family, worrying about how they would be; could I cope with their emotions and still be professional? As it turned out, it was one of the most uplifting meetings that I've had - they gained so much from their experience with their daughter, whom they absolutely adored, that they feel, amid the sadness, gratitude and privilege.
The parents of the adult child have also developed coping strategies, which involve a great deal of communication, particularly with their other children, and being able to rely on the support of good friends.
I remember, long ago, being surprised at how low I felt after the funeral of a 102 year old, and how uplifted after a 45 year old. I suppose this is the same again.
A colleague of mine, when she pulls up at the family's house, thinks to herself "I wonder what I'll find in here?" I guess that's one of the pleasures of the job - we never know until we get there and trying to pre-guess is not worth the bothering with.
Long may it continue.
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3 comments:
That's really interesting, XP. Does it relate to the way people grieve for what wasn't, as well as what was? Or about the resilience of a family compared with the acute loneliness, sometimes, of solo old age?
I helped with the funeral of a very severely handicapped young woman, and her family were utterly distraught. I felt that the young woman had been the centre of their lives, the raison d'etre of the mother's life in particular, and also that they were grieving for the life the young woman hadn't had.
Grounds for further thought - thanks.
It's a good question, Gloria. In the case of the disabled child; she had never been expected to grow into full adulthood, and so I think she was seen very much as a precious gift by the family.
Having spoken to them since, however, they are also having some darker moments, when it all seems terribly unfair (the unexpected nature of the death, as much as anything).
You raise a good point - there are many times when people grieve for the lives that weren't to be, or sometimes the relationships that they never had, and now never can (often the case when meeting people about their parents, I find).
With the very elderly, I think all people who have been married for many decades secretly want to die first, as they can't imagine a life without the other person. I met a 90+ year old lady once who said "I won't meet another like him". As she was talking about the handsome 20 year old that her husband had been when they started courting, I really didn't know whether to laugh or cry!
Thanks for your comment, as always.
What a good point, XP, about wanting to go first.
I suppose it's all about preparedness. Eyes tight shot can result in the most terrible, paralysing or furious grief.
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