I had a request from one of the facilities we serve to visit one of their residents. This man had some tremendous losses in the past year. His wife, who had dementia, had died rather suddenly some months ago. He also had a stroke which affected his speech and mobility, requiring him to move in to the facility as well. I spoke with his daughter before visiting and she spoke of how concerned she was for him, saying he had talked with his physical therapists about how depressed he was. Continue reading
One of my readers sent me an email regarding my last post on helplessness and hopelessness. She had actually written a song very relevant to the discussion and shared it with me and I wanted to pass it along. She shared some of her valuable insights as well.
“I wrote it because my stepmother was struggling quite a bit in her grief, following the loss of her mother. She expressed to me that she didn’t want to sound like “a broken record,” by talking about her mom’s death so often. But she just couldn’t stop thinking about it. My reflection was that this language of “broken” language is problematic. What if there isn’t anything wrong with the record at all — what if it’s repeating itself because what it’s saying is important?
Perhaps, like you wrote in your post, a grieving person just needs a different listening ear after a while, to help them process it?”
You can listen to her perform the song here on Bandcamp.
In my working with individuals who are struggling with their grief, one of the most difficult obstacles I’ve had is the sense of helplessness that sometimes accompanies grief. I made a call the other day to the wife of a past patient the other day, and she expressed her feelings this way: “You can’t help me.” She went on to talk about how she and her husband did absolutely everything together and how they planned on growing old together. Life without him was unimaginable. Now, two years after his death, every day feels worse than the day before. She has no picture of a future without him, feels unmoored and purposeless, and lacks a sense of her own identity. She has panic attacks and is very depressed most of the time. Worst of all though is her feeling that there’s nothing I or anyone else could do to help her. Continue reading
I’m not one for Lenten traditions, but I try – and fail – to mark the season in some way. This year I’m going to repost stories that reflect on that Lenten season.
The following is by Tish Harrison Warren and originally appeared on The Well by Intervarsity here.
March 05, 2014 By Tish Harrison Warren
Marked by Ashes
At my first Ash Wednesday service several years ago, I knelt in a quiet, contemplative sanctuary and was surprised by feeling almost irrepressible rage. As the priest marked each attendant with a cross of ashes on our foreheads, I felt as if he was marking us for death. I was angry at death. I was angry at the priest as if it was somehow his doing. Continue reading
Recently I had a family whose mother was on hospice with us. When Isabel* had a sudden decline and became active her family gathered around the bedside and all started to say the things that families and caregivers – including hospice staff – feel that they need to say in order for the dying person to “let go”. They all said that they loved her and that they would be OK. They had out of town family come in and say good-bye in person and on the phone. They told her over and over again that it was OK for her to go. The priest gave last rites. This went on for well over a week.
Needless to say it was rough. The family came and went, said what they needed to say, and still Isabel seemed to hang on. There were a lot of thoughts and questions: “What haven’t we said? Is there someone that hasn’t said goodbye yet? Is she waiting to hear from someone? What are we missing? Why is she still here?”
My best response was, “I don’t know.”
Marvel Comics’ cash cow Wolverine has been dead now since 2014. At least until he isn’t dead anymore.
Yes, Wolvie died when his healing factor was turned off and, in an epic fight with a mad scientist, he’s now entombed in the unbreakable metal adamantium. It’s a poetic tragedy in that adamantium was what originally coated his bones and trademark claws making him basically unbreakable. Now the metal is on the outside and Wolverine has suffocated to death.
I’m actually impressed that Marvel has kept him dead this long. He’s died on at least 40 occasions after all. Granted, many of those are in alternate timelines and “What if?” titles, so you can’t really count them. But the 2014 Death of Wolverine story seems to be the first time Wolverine has died and stayed dead. Continue reading
The following is from a remembrance service I did at a facility some years ago. At the end of the service we passed out stones to the families and staff in attendance. I hope you enjoy it.
…Joshua said to them: “Cross over before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and each one of you take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the children of Israel, that this may be a sign among you when your children ask in time to come, saying, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’ Then you shall answer them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD; when it crossed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. And these stones shall be for a memorial to the children of Israel forever.” Continue reading
Deseret News National reported a study in which the health outcomes of those with positive beliefs about God were compared to those with more negative beliefs and found some striking differences. Reporter Kelsey Dallas wrote:
Researchers behind the study, published this past summer, concluded that caretakers should try to intervene to help patients gain a more positive spiritual outlook to guard them against harmful physical and mental health consequences. However, experts who have studied how people cope with negative spiritual beliefs said shifting someone’s spirituality is a difficult process, which can’t be undertaken lightly.
“You’d better be careful, Sam. You’re going to burn out like this.”
These were words from my CPE supervisor several years ago. At the time I was a bit taken aback. After all my schedule certainly seemed manageable, and I felt I was doing OK at work and at home. Sure I had my struggles, but found a way to pick up and keep going every time. This March I realized he was right. Continue reading