One would incline oneself to be paranoid if the thought of deliberate unkindnesses were put upon a grieving family. Unfortunatly, I am not paranoid, just newly experienced. I found items on a Visa statement that indicated my husband reached fro beyond the memorial garden and purchased several items on April 1. They were small ticket items and the bank said nothing could be done without a police report and we decided for the tieing to let it go. Then a few days later I received two packages in the mail. Yes, from the life after death orders made on April 1. One was especially disturbing. It was fro a religious company of some sort and included a DVD of some supposedly Christian material. It sounded very fundameentalist - not our thing. Holding myself in a tight rein I called the company. No apology, no explanation or even a moment of hesitation when told of the strange circumstances of the initial order, has lead me to believe that it is a usual business practice. I insisted on getting a return authorization number and informed them that I would not tolerate any further contact. The cost of the return postage was more than enough added to the impossible $6.95 or so advance mailing costs. I am quite comfortable with the notion that they more often than not get the additional $79.95 for the DVD. from family members who are too overwhelmed to do other than pay up.
Other cruelities were less deliberate. My current all time. low is from the woman from the death and senior services department at the state of Missouri. I needed extra death certificates and sent $53.00 off with the forms to get some more. A week later I received my stamped, self-addressed envelope back informing me that I needed to use a different form - and it most be notarized. I took care of that and waitid for an additional 10 days before calling to inquire what the delay was. I first had to endure the woman stumbling all over my husband's middle name, remarking "That's sure a funny name, where did he get that?" "She kept muttering about the name over and over and had to be reminded that I was not calling for such commentary. I did have questions such as where were the certificates, where is the money from the check they had cashed some two weeks before/in general, what was going on? The answer was that the certificated was not even filed yet, it wouldn't be for probably three or four weeks and if I wanted my money back I could get it but I would then have to start all over. I suggested that was a miserable way to run a department that received much of its business from grieving families that were in great need of the documents in order to carry out the business of death. I was told " Surely madam you can't think your husband's death is the only one we are dealing with.? Lots of people died in March in this state(!!!)." Which part of the general concern I had expressed on the part of grieving families had she not heard!?! I said the department could have sent me a note explaining when the certificate would be sent and my options. She reached in for her trump card and explained that I certainly couldn't expect the state to call me personally. No, I didn't but I did think it would not take any more than a few seconds to add the relevant information to the memo they had sent me stating that I had to use a different form.. Game, set, match.
I think of St. Luke's billing department as the second cruelest contact but it some ways it wins hands down. One, it is a faith-based hospital and it is my faith's hospital.. Sarah and I had received such comfort from the ER staff that she suggested that we list St. Luke's as one of the memorial alternatives. I was later happy that no one had donated to that choice. I received a bill from St. Luke's. addressed to Ben. There is a certain stab of pain when one goes through the mail and finds these addressings. Sarah relayed that a friend from school told her of her pain when such mail arrived, so it is not just my personal fancy. When it is from the hospital he died in the pain level is still higher. I called the billing department to check that they did have the right insurance information. The woman read back the right numbers . I called BCBS subsequent to that call and was given a caseworker to help with this process. We called back St. Luke's billing the next day on a conference call and we were argued with about what had been billed and when.. I held firm on the dates I had, but the woman became hostile(!). I asked the BCBS lady to let's just give up for now I couldn't take the argumentative tone right then . I then asked the billing person if they could change the addressee for the bills, to my name. She rejected that idea asking why they shouldn't bill the person who received the services. "Because he died in your ER that night." [Wouldn't you think such a notation would be included in the information sent to billing?] I think a little sensitivity training would be helpful.. I received another bill from St..Luke's the next day and some $800.00 in charges had been removed. Since part of the removed charges included an OR I think they had originally billed me for the costs assumed by the transplant network. That makes me a bit suspicious for others who may not have been watching bills carefully as well as being watched over by a supportive insurance company..
Most people I have come in contact with have been intentionally kind.. Unbelievably kind. It wouldn't take much for most others to think about how they would feel in such circumstances and opt into a gentler way of speaking.. As for the predators such as the DVD company, such pain is their stock in trade - just beware...
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
getting rid of pills and insulin
A real concern I had was how to dispose of Ben's pills and leftover insulin. I didn't imagine it would do much good for the planet if the vials of insulin and various drugs for heart, blood pressure and chloresteral hit the water supply all at once. I called the drugstore and found out the procedure. Smash up the pills, mix them with kitty litter and coffee grounds and put them in a plastic bag in the trash. The liquids (insulin) go into special mailing bags costing $2.99 at the drug store pharmacy, but are postage paid, and send them off to a disposal center. The catch here is there is to be only about 1/4 pound per envelope, so that could add up.. I gave Kelsey my meal mallet and said he could have a go at smashing the pills to powder. I thought it might be therapy for him.
No more trouble than is involved in this process, more information should be available. The excess pills process would be useful when prescriptions change, not just for death.
No more trouble than is involved in this process, more information should be available. The excess pills process would be useful when prescriptions change, not just for death.
Limbo
After a death you are in many ways in a limbo regarding processing of governmental and financial business until the certified copies of the death certificate come. Following the funeral until the following Thursday I dug through papers trying to find what I didn't know and get ready to do things once the copies arrived. I found the OPM website and the FEGLI site and filled out forms to have them ready - bank, Social Security. copies to the readied envelopes to go in the post office. The copies arrived on Thursday and I started out copies in hand dealing them out in stop after stop. Additional concern was centered on the proposed federal government shutdown on the Friday next. Would that impact my application? I called Blue CrossBlue Shield and was given a special caseworker to help me through the necessary changeover to the new person who would own the policy - me. This wonderful lady gave me all sorts of info and the phone number for OPM! Then came my big news both good and bad. I found out what my monthly check would be, the monthly insurance deduction but it is illegal to tell over the phone whether or not there is life insurance or how much there is. since I was talking to someone in the east somewhere I don't know how else I could reach for info. Can I call back to see the progress? No Can I call someone else? No. Can I. . . .? No. No. No. Is this logical? No. When will I know? Sometime in 4 or 5 weeks - By middle of May .How does one plan with this dearth of information? I don't know The really good news: benefits offices would not shut down even if other offices do. So nothing except the physics of the thing will slow the process up - or speed it on its way.
A Month Already
Real Time. Yesterday was a month since Ben passed. It both seems much less and like really forever and yet a third thing: an illusion. I still have the feelings at times that he's not dead. People think so, but it's not true. I remember Friday night in the ER and know better. I have to see that scene again to focus on the new reality.. a
About 1:00 AM on the 25th it ,in all its finality, hit hard and forcefully and I scared the dogs with my sobs far into the night.. Maybe by common wisdom that is a good thing but I really didn't enjoy it much. I had talked with Benj and the boys and Lainy, David and Kathryn for Easter and wished I could take the good advice I offered - finding good memories and focusing on them. Oh well please children do what I say, not what I do - and for how long have I said that! Molly climbed up on my bed in the morning and cuddled with me for the first time since. She's also started playing a little with her toys and rag-rag pulling. Simon is better again although he doesn't want me far from him and Boris is still Boris. For uninitiated, Molly is my Wheaten, Simon and Boris are 10 year old long-haired dachshunds. Simon is deaf since birth and nearly blind; he has spent his entire life in Ben's lap or at the least on his feet. He has had spells of shrieking barks at night, calling for Ben. I can not take his painful cries and have tried to help him but it is difficult. How do you explain this to an old deaf dog?? Especially when I can't explain it too well to myself..
About 1:00 AM on the 25th it ,in all its finality, hit hard and forcefully and I scared the dogs with my sobs far into the night.. Maybe by common wisdom that is a good thing but I really didn't enjoy it much. I had talked with Benj and the boys and Lainy, David and Kathryn for Easter and wished I could take the good advice I offered - finding good memories and focusing on them. Oh well please children do what I say, not what I do - and for how long have I said that! Molly climbed up on my bed in the morning and cuddled with me for the first time since. She's also started playing a little with her toys and rag-rag pulling. Simon is better again although he doesn't want me far from him and Boris is still Boris. For uninitiated, Molly is my Wheaten, Simon and Boris are 10 year old long-haired dachshunds. Simon is deaf since birth and nearly blind; he has spent his entire life in Ben's lap or at the least on his feet. He has had spells of shrieking barks at night, calling for Ben. I can not take his painful cries and have tried to help him but it is difficult. How do you explain this to an old deaf dog?? Especially when I can't explain it too well to myself..
time together
Lainy and I went out to lunch the 31st so we could have a quiet time together before she left. We went to one of my favorite places in the city, The Bluebird Cafe on the westside. It is organic, local - all the good things and the food is wonderful. I had a homey fried potatoes and egg concoction which felt like comfort on a fork. We then went to Urban Arts and Crafts since I thought she would like that and we might find something special for Kathryn, the just 6 year old grand who didn't make the trip. So wise, 6 is just too young for such long distance waiting and grief.,especially aroumd virtual strangers to her.
Lainy found a bracelet wire on which one could load gems and jewels and take them off and re-arrange and put back on endlessly. we had a great time selecting an assortment. We then hit the bakery for cupcakes. I got a german chocolate which I left on the back porch, but it was still good later when I remembered it. Benj and the 3 older grands went to the airport to check outr the hangar and to see our Shirley. She had been too ill to come to the service and we needed to touch base with her. Amy was left withe swimmers: little guys and Emma. Sarah and Drew went back to work. we gathered for soup and sandwiches at dinner and made plans for Friday. the big decision was WWI Museum or Science City across the street.
Friday arrived with my not having the energy or too much leg pain or some such trouble so after not sleeping I decided to stay ome and quiet. I had a pre-scheduled doctor's appointment in the am so I did that and then bowed out of the left of the day. Benj and family headed south after their touring in the city and Lainy and David would leave in the wee hours of Saturday morning.. The new normal is catching up to us.
Lainy found a bracelet wire on which one could load gems and jewels and take them off and re-arrange and put back on endlessly. we had a great time selecting an assortment. We then hit the bakery for cupcakes. I got a german chocolate which I left on the back porch, but it was still good later when I remembered it. Benj and the 3 older grands went to the airport to check outr the hangar and to see our Shirley. She had been too ill to come to the service and we needed to touch base with her. Amy was left withe swimmers: little guys and Emma. Sarah and Drew went back to work. we gathered for soup and sandwiches at dinner and made plans for Friday. the big decision was WWI Museum or Science City across the street.
Friday arrived with my not having the energy or too much leg pain or some such trouble so after not sleeping I decided to stay ome and quiet. I had a pre-scheduled doctor's appointment in the am so I did that and then bowed out of the left of the day. Benj and family headed south after their touring in the city and Lainy and David would leave in the wee hours of Saturday morning.. The new normal is catching up to us.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
The Service
It was cold, with a wet, raw wind, the skies were a leaden gray somber in mirroring our sorrow. I was glad we had chosen the 10:30 time for we couldn't have done anything else beforehand. We arrived at the church to find all the kids had gotten there and been keyed to the mike. we gathered in Ben's cousins and a dear friend and on Hank's cue walked across the courtyard and into the nave. There was a lovely crowd inside. My prediction that we could hold the reception in the Common Room would not hold up. The piognant melody of the Meditation began. I had Kelsey on one side and Lainy on the other and woodenly stood, sat, spoke, prayed the liturgy.The grands were wonderful in their parts! They all read well and clearly. Benj and Lainy spoke so movingly of their father and Kelsey, with his mom standing beside him, told of the loss of his best friend. Sue's homily was so warn and captured this lovely man so well. The little guys stole the show bringing in the oblations with stately steps up that long aisle. Lenette's singing was so beautiful and full of love. I heard voices joining her in the refrains. During the eucharist I saw so any faces I knew and loved and many I had not thought to see: my favorite professor at Park, ballooning friends, ultralight friends, so many from church. On came the coats and out to the garden. The sun at that moment tried to emerge but failed. After a brief service and the ashes interred we started greeting people. It started before I left the garden and continued into Founders. My friend put a cup of hot tea into my hands and I stood beside myself thanking people for coming and shared memories for hours. Finally, about 2:30 I determined that I must eat something and put a few things on a plate. The little grands had been busy outside and had something to show me. They had taken sticks and made a "Here lies my Papa." sign on his corner of the wall from them with an M & M to dot the i.. At that moment a tradition happened. I told the guys that when I came to church I would stop and put an M & M on his part of the wall. They liked that. A little child. . .
.That night we all went to the Bristol in the Power and Light District. Benj and Lainy together thought it up as a family send off and toast to Ben. It was delicious and a quiet setting which ended the day well. Everyone felt so supported by the love in the service so our time together was as contented as it could be.
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.That night we all went to the Bristol in the Power and Light District. Benj and Lainy together thought it up as a family send off and toast to Ben. It was delicious and a quiet setting which ended the day well. Everyone felt so supported by the love in the service so our time together was as contented as it could be.
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Food stuffs
There is a seemingly ancient tradition in the bringing of food to the grieving. I had no interest in food but I had family who did, especially the grandsons. Two especially kind food gifts were from friends who apparently sensed that kind of appetite. Sarah's in-laws on Saturday am brought ALL the makings for deli meals: meat, cheese, condiments, drinks, snacks, cookies, bread, plates, cups, napkins, plastic spoons - you get the idea. Someone could eat whenever they wished and everything they needed was in place. Two lifelong friends of Benj brought over all the makings for a bar-be-que meal: boxes of meats, bread, potato salad, baked beans, slaw. What a feast for the boys and it looked so good, I enjoyed a few bites myself. Others brought vegetable trays and dips, cake, homemade cookies.
The greateat food gifts awaited us at the church. People brought a great reception meal to our Founder's Hall Wednesday. There were sandwiches, cheeses, fruit, salads - just a beautiful array and through love and kindness it was all tended and served to those who braved the non-spring day to share our memories. I had relayed to Mary Ann that a perfect reception for Ben would include M & M's and Oreo cookies. As a family we decided to bring the M & M's but she struggled with the cookies until soe kind soul brought Oreo truffles dipped in white chocolate. I could see Ben's grin for that one!
The grands chose up their readings. I told David the meaning behind the psalm selection he was reading. Kelsey wrote out a reflection he wanted to read at the service. I asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He was firm in his decision . Benj and Lainy also wanted to share thoughts and while they are both experienced speakers I felt a need to coach them. "This is not like anything else you have done. You can't just wing it because you will find yourself going down a path you can't finish. Plan what you want to say, find a single idea and share that and have it all thought through. (And in the true Episcopal tradition) keep it short."
I had finally sat down and ordered the flowers from Trapps. Bob knows what to do since he does all our church flowers. I decided on a grouping of spring flowering branches and flowers (with a lot of negative space) for inside the nave, which would be moved to Founder's for the reception table, and a spray with flowering branches for the memorial garden.
I decided to lay out my clothes for the morning, take a hoarded sleeping pill and go to sleep. I slept in my bed for the first time, but with lights on - loneliness is harder in the dark
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The greateat food gifts awaited us at the church. People brought a great reception meal to our Founder's Hall Wednesday. There were sandwiches, cheeses, fruit, salads - just a beautiful array and through love and kindness it was all tended and served to those who braved the non-spring day to share our memories. I had relayed to Mary Ann that a perfect reception for Ben would include M & M's and Oreo cookies. As a family we decided to bring the M & M's but she struggled with the cookies until soe kind soul brought Oreo truffles dipped in white chocolate. I could see Ben's grin for that one!
The grands chose up their readings. I told David the meaning behind the psalm selection he was reading. Kelsey wrote out a reflection he wanted to read at the service. I asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He was firm in his decision . Benj and Lainy also wanted to share thoughts and while they are both experienced speakers I felt a need to coach them. "This is not like anything else you have done. You can't just wing it because you will find yourself going down a path you can't finish. Plan what you want to say, find a single idea and share that and have it all thought through. (And in the true Episcopal tradition) keep it short."
I had finally sat down and ordered the flowers from Trapps. Bob knows what to do since he does all our church flowers. I decided on a grouping of spring flowering branches and flowers (with a lot of negative space) for inside the nave, which would be moved to Founder's for the reception table, and a spray with flowering branches for the memorial garden.
I decided to lay out my clothes for the morning, take a hoarded sleeping pill and go to sleep. I slept in my bed for the first time, but with lights on - loneliness is harder in the dark
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Friday, April 22, 2011
Rainy Days and Mondays
Lainy and David arrive stumbling with exhaustion. It is David's first plane ride and he now has the family disease (addiction to flight). We all eat breakfast together and send them off to sleep at the motel. Kelsey and I head back to figure out how to get information out of the Mac. I need to draw cash from my deferred compensation account so I can pay expenses. I must fill out the forms and go downtown to the school district to get a countersign and then mail it off. I still have the flowers to settle on And,of course, more people to talk with and reach by email. And by now, start reading incoming emails.- so touching and such a comfort.Never again underestimate shared loss. The printer decides that it will not live any longer. I find a copy to copy and go off to get that done and then Benj, his family and I drive downtown to do this.errand. Once we are finished with the school district part we try to find a post office and only see the cold, unfriendly facade of the new IRS building. I wonder if the designer and one who let the contract had strong sense of humor. I hope so. we use the GPS and find a post office in Kansas but still within the deadline for its last delivery. we also find a hispanic restaurant and have a margarita (wonderful!). And a little quiet time, still better. Zach wonders why cremation and I tell him that is what my family has done for generations and I felt quite strongly about using so much of the earth for cemetaries which is a waste to me. I had convinced his Papa of this notion and we felt that the church garden was a great choice. It seemed to be an adequate answer, but I must touch back with him to see.
When I get home I consider what I am to wear Wednesday. . I quickly decide that I don't want something new. I don't want something in my closet that was for Ben's funeral. I will wear what I had for the bishop's consecreation earlier in the month. That was a happier initial wearing. Otherwise I see myself wanting to remove my clothes as the end of the day and quietly setting them afire..
When I get home I consider what I am to wear Wednesday. . I quickly decide that I don't want something new. I don't want something in my closet that was for Ben's funeral. I will wear what I had for the bishop's consecreation earlier in the month. That was a happier initial wearing. Otherwise I see myself wanting to remove my clothes as the end of the day and quietly setting them afire..
We begin to gather
I awake, startled by an infomercial on the television. My instant thought was annoyance "Why did HE have that on!?" Oh no, there is no he. It's Sunday and when you leave a television on all night you get infomercials on Sunday mornings. from now on I'll have to do something different I can't take repeating such awakenings on a regular basis. Sarah and Kelsey later suggest a music channel for the overnight hours which works out quite well once I settle on classical and not something I am compelled to sing along with.
Benj and family arrive late morning and tumble out of the car and into waiting arms. We load up cars and head out to the funeral home. We go through the obituary first since we must get it to the Star on deadline. Hank thinks the photo will work fine and he can do the initial crop, the Star will do the rest. I have forgotten the photo so Sarah runs home for it. We go over the other details and review the bill. we don"t approach the national average for funerals - a relief but at the same time I can feel that it will not be on the "cheap". The viewing is arranged and we end up with all going into the semi-darkened room. We stand in clusters, our loss in front of us and in time we leave It is easier to seeBen here than in the hospital and sadder at the same time. I know two things: It is final and "he" was not there. As we leave Hank leans over and whispers to me "You have a lovely family.". I do, thank you.
We need food. I don't remember eating anything except a caramel long john Saturday but I know I was offered food and may have eaten. I suggest the Corner Cafe since they produce a diner-style variety of food and lots of it. We are feeding boys.
We head to the church to meet with Mother Sue Of all things it starts snowing! Huge flakes drift down. Thank heavens I wore my warm coat. Sue and John lead us through our choices within the litergy and music. My friend Lenette has agreed to sing. The older grands are to be drafted as readers, intercessor as I think they will do better in remembering they had a part in the service We decide that David gets to choose his reading first since he wasn't here to make the selections. The Psalm is the one I used to say before each balloon flight. The little guys ask, "What about us?" I told them they would have something but we didn't know what yet. When we included the eucharist, that became obvious, they could carry the oblations forward. "Yes, we could do that, Gams - What are oblations?" That explained, they are set up with a job. John suggests some hymns, I request "On Eagles Wings" (we had had that for my brothers' services and it is from a favorite psalm) as a solo and Massanet's "Meditation" as part of the prelude. Benj relates later he is swept up in memory of his choir boy years hearing John hum through passages of music. Good connection for him.. We descend to the garden to pick the place on the wall. I yield choice to the children since they will be dealing with the decision longer than I and immediately reject their first choice. I accept the second choice and we hurry out of the cold snow and the magnolia tree in full bloom - what season is it?
Benj and family arrive late morning and tumble out of the car and into waiting arms. We load up cars and head out to the funeral home. We go through the obituary first since we must get it to the Star on deadline. Hank thinks the photo will work fine and he can do the initial crop, the Star will do the rest. I have forgotten the photo so Sarah runs home for it. We go over the other details and review the bill. we don"t approach the national average for funerals - a relief but at the same time I can feel that it will not be on the "cheap". The viewing is arranged and we end up with all going into the semi-darkened room. We stand in clusters, our loss in front of us and in time we leave It is easier to seeBen here than in the hospital and sadder at the same time. I know two things: It is final and "he" was not there. As we leave Hank leans over and whispers to me "You have a lovely family.". I do, thank you.
We need food. I don't remember eating anything except a caramel long john Saturday but I know I was offered food and may have eaten. I suggest the Corner Cafe since they produce a diner-style variety of food and lots of it. We are feeding boys.
We head to the church to meet with Mother Sue Of all things it starts snowing! Huge flakes drift down. Thank heavens I wore my warm coat. Sue and John lead us through our choices within the litergy and music. My friend Lenette has agreed to sing. The older grands are to be drafted as readers, intercessor as I think they will do better in remembering they had a part in the service We decide that David gets to choose his reading first since he wasn't here to make the selections. The Psalm is the one I used to say before each balloon flight. The little guys ask, "What about us?" I told them they would have something but we didn't know what yet. When we included the eucharist, that became obvious, they could carry the oblations forward. "Yes, we could do that, Gams - What are oblations?" That explained, they are set up with a job. John suggests some hymns, I request "On Eagles Wings" (we had had that for my brothers' services and it is from a favorite psalm) as a solo and Massanet's "Meditation" as part of the prelude. Benj relates later he is swept up in memory of his choir boy years hearing John hum through passages of music. Good connection for him.. We descend to the garden to pick the place on the wall. I yield choice to the children since they will be dealing with the decision longer than I and immediately reject their first choice. I accept the second choice and we hurry out of the cold snow and the magnolia tree in full bloom - what season is it?
First Business
Saturday truly began the business of death. Initeria, as in physics, is a necessary part of it as the progress through the day began slowly, building up steam as it went on. There were still too many people to tell. Every free moment found me back at the address book on his Mac finding different ways to tell different people some who I knew and loved, others I had instant memories of as their name flashed on screen and still more that I had never met but who shared some of Ben's life. How many different ways can one say "he's gone"!?! And, how many times? I found, only a few at a time. I had emailed my brother's widow in California Friday night, I think instinctively reaching out to someone who would know my feelings. She called and we wept together as she shared the kind of emotion another widow (that still sounds so foreign, I can't accept that label yet) can. She also relayed that her lung cancer had progressed and she had hospice in her near future. That was not something I wanted to hear - not another impending loss. If I was noton the phone it was ringing. Sue checked in and we set 4:00 pm Sunday to plan the service which we set for Wednesday. Hank called about funeral home details and I immediately felt cossetted by his quiet strength and knowledge. We would meet noon on Sunday to allow Benj, Zach and whoever a final viewing, as well as produce the obituary and other service details. All of us who are in town will go Lainy will arrive with son David early Monday and definitely need a nap since they are coming from Portland, OR via Atlanta starting out Sunday night. I talk with Benj again and convince him to .come up Sunday rather than today and then go back to get the boys on Sunday. I really don't want him driving up and down the highway between here and Andover (KS) these next two days. He needs to see me and get a hug and I need it, too, but I can't indulge myself with this much short term travel for him, especially under stress. He's a good child, he listens to his mother. Mary Ann calls from the church to tell me not to worry about the reception. It will be done. Wow. A load goes away and I feel grateful for one more kindness. We also discuss the flowers which must be limited due to it being Lent. The day goes by alternately quite fast and slowly inching along. The recliner to my right remains empty, my body mirrors the hollowness and when the house is once again quiet and I am alone I write his obituary. I have written several obits. and understand the process.
How to write an obituary: first understand that you write for several purposes. One is historical record, so you provide data of birth, death, family. You list employment/occupation information, memberships in associations and notable achievements. education, survivors, when services are to be held along with memorial requests. It harder when you are "his wife of 49 years, Joyce. . ." (that was the awkward construct I put to our relationship). We have a good picture taken of both of us last May, which we just gave to the children for Valentine's Day. It can be cropped to show Ben alone. I wrap up in my chair in the quilt Lainy made me for Christmas and pretend to sleep to the sounds from the television.
How to write an obituary: first understand that you write for several purposes. One is historical record, so you provide data of birth, death, family. You list employment/occupation information, memberships in associations and notable achievements. education, survivors, when services are to be held along with memorial requests. It harder when you are "his wife of 49 years, Joyce. . ." (that was the awkward construct I put to our relationship). We have a good picture taken of both of us last May, which we just gave to the children for Valentine's Day. It can be cropped to show Ben alone. I wrap up in my chair in the quilt Lainy made me for Christmas and pretend to sleep to the sounds from the television.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Learnings begin
On the way home from the hospital Sarah's cell phone went off. It was for me and was the transplant network needing one hour (yep, ONE HOUR!!!) of my time for a medical interview to determine information necessary for transplant. What to say? I was holding on to the donation process as something positive coming out of this very bad day. It was something Ben and I had talked about numerous times and both wanted. I knew enough to know in this day such intrusive questioning is beyond prudent, but. . . .I had grieving to do - my own, my children's and grands' and so many people to notify. Surely, an hour!!!! I let the process start and when we arrived in the driveway said "give me 20 minutes and call me back on the home phone." Exactly 20 minutes later I was back into the conversation. It is a gruelling process made better only through the awareness of the interviewer that it is cruel and gruelling for the responder. Several times different sections of the interview were introduced with an apology acknowledging the invasiveness of the questions to come. My special education background helped due to the background in medical conditions I had acquired through teaching severely disabled children and being around medical terms and diseases. Having a printed meds list also helped. I had earlier that evening (before I knew it wouldn't be needed, grabbed Ben's meds list from the refrigerator door). I was about 90% complete on the written list and various questions led me to find the missing med and add it to the listing I had given. Finally, we were through. I had seen the phone light up several times while we were talking but couldn't interrrupt. Little did I know that an answering machine with Ben's recorded voice suggested we couldn't come to the phone and to leave a message - very startling to his half-orphans! When I learnd about it later I had my son-in-law record over it but to this moment do not know how to get to the messages. First things first, at least now no one gets such a suddenly tragic response on the phone.
I thought about emailing friends and family and looked on Ben's email account only to see 297 email addresses, many for people I did not know. I sent off a well-placed notice to a close friend in powered parachute community knowing he would tell his dealers and the word would spread, sent another one to my sister-in-law in CA and a few others before I could do no more. Bed was not a viable choice so I went to chair and left the television on (which I would do 24 hours a day for many days) to drown out the sounds of silence in the house. No sleep, but a quiet emptiness filled the room.
I have a strong need to change how this transplant info is gathered. A dear doctor who has listened to me agrees, for a reason different from mine,. He questions the accuracy of the information gathered in this way. I question the whole process including the cruelty, unintentional though it may be. I went through it because that was how the transplant could happen and I knew that was step 1 in the pre-funeral process.of a mission I don't know to change the process how right now but perhaps a microchip, a file somewhere in cyberspace that is accurate up to a point and only needs to be given the last known meds and medical info. I think if people know what their loved ones will be spared they will give this info on a pre-registry or even if nothing is done officially just knowing the process will halp someone do the process and then join me in lobbying for changes.
I thought about emailing friends and family and looked on Ben's email account only to see 297 email addresses, many for people I did not know. I sent off a well-placed notice to a close friend in powered parachute community knowing he would tell his dealers and the word would spread, sent another one to my sister-in-law in CA and a few others before I could do no more. Bed was not a viable choice so I went to chair and left the television on (which I would do 24 hours a day for many days) to drown out the sounds of silence in the house. No sleep, but a quiet emptiness filled the room.
I have a strong need to change how this transplant info is gathered. A dear doctor who has listened to me agrees, for a reason different from mine,. He questions the accuracy of the information gathered in this way. I question the whole process including the cruelty, unintentional though it may be. I went through it because that was how the transplant could happen and I knew that was step 1 in the pre-funeral process.of a mission I don't know to change the process how right now but perhaps a microchip, a file somewhere in cyberspace that is accurate up to a point and only needs to be given the last known meds and medical info. I think if people know what their loved ones will be spared they will give this info on a pre-registry or even if nothing is done officially just knowing the process will halp someone do the process and then join me in lobbying for changes.
No Roadmaps
I am starting out by playing catch up which is rather appropriate.
At 6:12 pm CDT on March 25, 2011 my husband of 49 years died - without warning. My life changed from the quiet, somewhat orderly existence centered around him, my family and homey things such as trying new recipes and knitting and reading to one,for which I had (have) no roadmap.
My daughter Sarah and I left the driveway at exactly the same moment and she got us to Lee's Summit in 20 minutes weaving in and out of late rush hour traffic. I had received a call to come quickly, that he was in very critical condition. I grabbed my purse, took up the knitting bag (always handy) and put it back down with the only premonition I would have: Knitting won't do it this time. After all that rush we were escorted to a small room where we waited. A police officer was there and I asked him if he was there for the same reason we were. He said yes. "Will you tell me if it is an accident or if he is ill? " " I can't, m'am." I really thought he would have noticed the difference but wasn't up to an argument, so I said "Sarah I don't like this I don't think this is good. I don't think we are going to get out of this." She, taking my hand, agreed and the officer left. A few minutes later three women and a man in jeans and a plaid cotton shirt came in. They sat around me and the lead woman introduced herself as a doctor and said "He didn't make it. We did everything we could but he just didn't make it. I'm sorry." Language critic that I am, I chill at the phraseology. He didn't make it! There has to be a better way to phrase it. It sounds like what they say on a doctor show on television. But the fact was there. My murmured "Please God. . . ." which I had repeated over and over since The Call, got the wrong answer. The man revealed himself to be a chaplain and asked if there was anything they could do for me. I asked for a "do-over from maybe about noon or so." He said he couldn't do that so I said for the first of what would be many many times "I don't know what to do. I don't have a roadmap." He or the doctor said that whatever I wanted to do was OK, there was no right or wrong thing. That was too vague for me at that time so I persisted with" what should I do? " The chaplain offered to call clergy from one of the local churches but I said I want mine. Then began the search for the right numbers when you are not expecting to have to reach someone on a Friday. I thought if they could get me a white pages I could get ahold of someone. I found Linda (a Deacon friend who would have the directory) in the book and the chaplain called her. I heard her scream. She had the numbers for Sue and Joe. This kind man called Sue first and I heard her scream. This poor dear fellow is going to think all Episcopalians are screamers. He was, name lost in the inability I had to learn any thing else new, a police chaplain who had responded to the emergency need that night ( later figured that we were waiting for his arrival) - and turned out to be a friend and fellow chaplain to Brian England who had been a Deacon at the Cathedral until his work relocated him to D.C. as well as a friend of ours. They then took us to the room where Ben was, many of the signs of their futile efforts to save him still in place.
While was occupied with the chaplain Sarah had reached her sister by phone and hearing her sobs I took the phone and said "I love you. I love you over and over. I didn't know how to reach through her pain. Sarah couldn't get Benj, her brother. She did get his wife Amy and again I took the phone and told her the sad news which she would have to relay. I asked Sarah to also call our adopted family, the Slocums, and let them know. J.R. said he would be right down. He and Sue came almost together. Sue's husband drove her down from Platte county for which I had the sense to be grateful. Sue gave last rites and we prayed the Lord's Prayer together. Benj called back almost unable to breathe and his boys all needed to touch base with Gams and share their love and sorrow. Sarah somewhere in this time called her home and told my other two grands- and neighbors - their Papa was gone. A nurse came back in the room and said we needed to find a funeral home. At last a question I was prepared for: "Call Hank DeVry at Park Lawn North. It is to be direct cremation with services at Grace and Holy Trinity and interment in the Memorial Garden." That was my whole knowledge base, after firing those instructions off. One more thought: Is it possible to use anything for transplant, Sarah and I wondered. Corneas were about it. Please set that happening and since the medical staff didn't need it, no autopsy is needed. It wouldn't change anything. Then mundane things came to mind: truck keys, his coat, other possessions. We looked about the room and even in his pockets - out fell three hard candies. No M & M's, he had probably eaten them. With a final kiss we left. We left the room and life as we knew it.
At 6:12 pm CDT on March 25, 2011 my husband of 49 years died - without warning. My life changed from the quiet, somewhat orderly existence centered around him, my family and homey things such as trying new recipes and knitting and reading to one,for which I had (have) no roadmap.
My daughter Sarah and I left the driveway at exactly the same moment and she got us to Lee's Summit in 20 minutes weaving in and out of late rush hour traffic. I had received a call to come quickly, that he was in very critical condition. I grabbed my purse, took up the knitting bag (always handy) and put it back down with the only premonition I would have: Knitting won't do it this time. After all that rush we were escorted to a small room where we waited. A police officer was there and I asked him if he was there for the same reason we were. He said yes. "Will you tell me if it is an accident or if he is ill? " " I can't, m'am." I really thought he would have noticed the difference but wasn't up to an argument, so I said "Sarah I don't like this I don't think this is good. I don't think we are going to get out of this." She, taking my hand, agreed and the officer left. A few minutes later three women and a man in jeans and a plaid cotton shirt came in. They sat around me and the lead woman introduced herself as a doctor and said "He didn't make it. We did everything we could but he just didn't make it. I'm sorry." Language critic that I am, I chill at the phraseology. He didn't make it! There has to be a better way to phrase it. It sounds like what they say on a doctor show on television. But the fact was there. My murmured "Please God. . . ." which I had repeated over and over since The Call, got the wrong answer. The man revealed himself to be a chaplain and asked if there was anything they could do for me. I asked for a "do-over from maybe about noon or so." He said he couldn't do that so I said for the first of what would be many many times "I don't know what to do. I don't have a roadmap." He or the doctor said that whatever I wanted to do was OK, there was no right or wrong thing. That was too vague for me at that time so I persisted with" what should I do? " The chaplain offered to call clergy from one of the local churches but I said I want mine. Then began the search for the right numbers when you are not expecting to have to reach someone on a Friday. I thought if they could get me a white pages I could get ahold of someone. I found Linda (a Deacon friend who would have the directory) in the book and the chaplain called her. I heard her scream. She had the numbers for Sue and Joe. This kind man called Sue first and I heard her scream. This poor dear fellow is going to think all Episcopalians are screamers. He was, name lost in the inability I had to learn any thing else new, a police chaplain who had responded to the emergency need that night ( later figured that we were waiting for his arrival) - and turned out to be a friend and fellow chaplain to Brian England who had been a Deacon at the Cathedral until his work relocated him to D.C. as well as a friend of ours. They then took us to the room where Ben was, many of the signs of their futile efforts to save him still in place.
While was occupied with the chaplain Sarah had reached her sister by phone and hearing her sobs I took the phone and said "I love you. I love you over and over. I didn't know how to reach through her pain. Sarah couldn't get Benj, her brother. She did get his wife Amy and again I took the phone and told her the sad news which she would have to relay. I asked Sarah to also call our adopted family, the Slocums, and let them know. J.R. said he would be right down. He and Sue came almost together. Sue's husband drove her down from Platte county for which I had the sense to be grateful. Sue gave last rites and we prayed the Lord's Prayer together. Benj called back almost unable to breathe and his boys all needed to touch base with Gams and share their love and sorrow. Sarah somewhere in this time called her home and told my other two grands- and neighbors - their Papa was gone. A nurse came back in the room and said we needed to find a funeral home. At last a question I was prepared for: "Call Hank DeVry at Park Lawn North. It is to be direct cremation with services at Grace and Holy Trinity and interment in the Memorial Garden." That was my whole knowledge base, after firing those instructions off. One more thought: Is it possible to use anything for transplant, Sarah and I wondered. Corneas were about it. Please set that happening and since the medical staff didn't need it, no autopsy is needed. It wouldn't change anything. Then mundane things came to mind: truck keys, his coat, other possessions. We looked about the room and even in his pockets - out fell three hard candies. No M & M's, he had probably eaten them. With a final kiss we left. We left the room and life as we knew it.
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