If you know me, you know I am not someone who wakes up early for fun. I can wake up early. I choose to sleep because sleep is a lovely gift. I am not sure what is happening lately because I have been waking up an hour before my alarm and enjoying the extra time. Yesterday, I wrote a funeral service before my alarm sounded. Today, I am writing my second blog post long before my alarm goes off or the sun decides to show itself. While I don’t know how long my new found morning productivity will last, I am going to embrace it (not sure I have much choice). So, if you find yourself up before the sun, here is a prayer for you!
God, Morning has not even broken yet, and I am awake. I know you are awake as well. Thank you for another day of life. Thank you for walking beside me whatever this day may hold. As I pray, I open my eyes and see that light is beginning to illuminate life outside my window. Thank you for the morning. For all awake already, give them your peace as they go through the day. For those still sleeping, give them peace and good rest. As morning begins to break, give me what I need for today. Amen and Amen.
I was asked to write an article for Coastal Hospice’s quarterly newsletter about joy and hope in hospice chaplaincy. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy doing this work!
I am often asked how do you do your job? The assumption behind this question is that the work of a hospice chaplain/spiritual counselor must be so sad. And yes, I have the privilege to be with people for hard conversations and tearful goodbyes. What you might be surprised to know is that just as often I get to share in moments of joy and hope too.
Here are just a few examples. A 90 year old hospice patient pulled up his pant leg to show me his super hero socks and requested the next time I visit that I must wear fun socks too. For my next visit, the nurse and I visited together and everyone smiled as we showed off our fun socks. This has become a regular ritual of everyone showing off their socks at each visit.
Hospice chaplains can do weddings! I gathered with a couple and their families and dogs in a living room and officiated their marriage. They had planned to get married and had never made the time. I was able to fulfill this goal for them in their own home.
We help celebrate special days. I have enjoyed many pieces of birthday cake with patients and families as we celebrate another year of life. I have eaten at the Chinese buffet with a patient and her hospice team because she loved Chinese food and wanted to enjoy it with the people who helped care for her.
I have a patient who loves music and laughs each time I sing songs from the 50s and 60s with her. When she is done laughing at my singing, she sings along.
As a chaplain, I am welcomed into someone’s home and invited to be part of their journey. I consider it a privilege to celebrate the important and everyday moments of life along with hospice patients and families.
Today is a sad day as it has now been two years since my Mom died. As I think about the last two years, sometimes it seems like so long since I last talked to Mom and other times it is like two years flew by. And that is grief.
As I have been thinking of this day, a quote from Frederick Buechner kept returning to my mind.
“When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.”
When I think of the marks of my mother that she imprinted on me, the list is long.
She taught me to love music-playing it and hearing it. She said it was important to practice too and she liked practicing as little as I did.
She was always reading multiple books at once. She kept books and her reader in different places so she had something close by to read whenever she had a free moment. She was always happy someone was reading no matter what they were reading! She loved to give book recommendations and loved to give a book to another reader (usually me) as soon as she finished!
My Mom found so much joy in seeing happiness in the people she loved. She loved to hear about my day, my work, and what was going on in my life. She was genuinely happy when her people were happy.
My Mom liked to eat foods that made her happy. No one who met Mom will argue with the fact that Mom was a picky eater! And yet, she was happy to eat her favorite meals and snacks over and over again. Two of the last things Mom ate were a homemade cinnamon roll and a lemon Bundt cake to celebrate my birthday! Potlucks and church suppers were never her favorite because someone might try to sneak some mayonnaise or a scary vegetable into her meal.
I could go on and on sharing ways that my Mom has left her mark on me. In memory of my Mom, could you take a few minutes today to tell someone special in your life that you love them and how they have left their mark on you?
“It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.” — Frederick Buechner
I love to ask someone what they loved about their significant other in my work at hospice. It can be a great way to learn so much about both of them. I like to ask how they met and what is the secret to their years together. Sometimes I get an immediate answer. Sometimes they say I don’t know and promise to think more about it.
My spouse and I are away celebrating (belatedly) 15 years of marriage. Here is what happened today that answers that question for me.
My husband has wanted to do deep sea fishing for years. I mean years and years. He scheduled the two of us to go. The plan was to go and catch lots of fish and then eat them together in a delicious meal. Great plan! On this beautifully, warm day, we hit the open water. He reeled in a mahi-mahi. I reeled in a red snapper. And then I realized I was not made to do deep sea fishing. I promise no details except I was sick! And you know what, not one time was my spouse grumpy or upset that we had to return to land earlier than planned. Not one time! Instead he said you were out here for a long time and we caught fish!
So the next time someone asks me the secret to marriage, I will share this story. And say find someone who keeps on loving you even you puke all over their dreams.
I remember when my buddy, Kristi, died. The grief was overwhelming. I cried and cried. Everywhere I turned something reminded me of her. I found ways to honor her memory including hanging up our picture and my husband making me a bench in the backyard so I could sit in nature and remember our stories.
Ten years have passed since her death. It doesn’t seem possible, and yet, it is. The memories still come and sometimes the tears too. What I feel now is often a sadness that for the things/people she didn’t get to meet that are important in my life and for our adventures not taken.
Yesterday as I was driving, I heard a song that made me smile. Kenny Chesney’s Happy on the Hey Now. He sings about a friend who died and his memories of this person. And then I heard him call her Kristi. And I thought I was imagining it. So I kept listening and turned it up. I heard Kristi again and again. When I was done driving, I looked it up and saw that the song is called Happy on the Hey Now (A Song for Kristi).
As I was listening to this song, I was smiling. I didn’t tear up although the next time I hear it I might. It isn’t the song I would have written for my Buddy, and I could still see her in this song too. The Kristi in the song loves to dance as did my dear friend. She lived her life in the moment which is something Kristi pushed me to do too.
“I hope time can be our healer, maybe time can be a friend. Still I’m a strong believer, someday we’ll see you again.”
For those of you grieving, my hope for you is moments like this where a good memory surprises you. You picture your loved one doing something they loved to do. You embrace whatever emotions come. And the grieving that was overwhelming is much less so. You love and miss your loved one and always will. And they live on in you and in all those who love them and keep their memories alive.
Or as Kenny sings, “And you will live with us as long as memories stay alive. And you left us with so many, Kristi, you will never die.”
The day before my wedding. You might guess that Kristi danced and danced the next day.
Each Summer the hospice where I work partners with the local university’s school of social work to host a camp for children who had a loved one die in the last year. It is wonderfully life changing and exhausting week. Due to COVID, our last two camps have not happened. I am so delighted to share that we had camp last week for the first time since 2019!
Obviously, I will not be sharing any stories about the campers because we promise to hold their stories in confidence. What I would like to share is the importance of this week to me.
Camp week is my chance to focus on children and families again. I love working with children and their families. At this time, my calling is leading me to hospice where I don’t get to spend too much time with children. During camp week, it is kids all the time. Which reminds me how much energy is needed to work with children and how amazing they are all at the same time.
Camp week is a break from the normal routines of work. During this week my fabulous colleagues care for any patient needs that arise for the patients in my care. My whole focus is camp. This one week’s change in focus gives me a break from routine and reinvigorates me to return to my routine again.
Camp week is a reminder that play is necessary in life. When we play volleyball with blankets and water balloons, I laugh at the challenge and cheer when we succeed in working as a team. Drawing with sidewalk chalk is a reminder that we all need time to be creative. Singing silly songs and playing bonding games is a chance to play and have fun.
During Camp Week, I get to see the gifts of my colleagues in action as we work together toward a common goal. In my regular work, I work as a team however we are not often in the same physical space at the same time. For camp week, we work side by side seeing and hearing how well we do our jobs. It is an opportunity to be reminded in person how amazing my colleagues are and how dedicated they are to this work.
As I reflect on the joys and struggles of last week, I am grateful for everything. I look forward to the opportunity to do it again and am thankful it won’t be for another year. My hope for you, dear reader, is that there are opportunities like this in your life where you are stretched and challenged to open you up to growth and a change in perspective.
I ended the week by privately praying for each child in my care as well as each adult. It was a time to ask God’s blessing on each of us and say goodbye. This personal closing ritual helped me not to hold on to everyone and instead to let them go. It gave me permission to return to my regular work with the assurance that God would continue to care for each of us and my work here was done. I encourage you to pray a private blessing when your work is done as a reminder to yourself to break from what you were doing and move on to caring for yourself for this time. Peace to you all today.
While 2020 was a hard year for so many reasons, it was also a year filled with time spent with my Mom. I saw her for her grandson’s birthday in January. In February, we flew to Florida to celebrate my Aunt and Uncle’s anniversary. COVID slowed down our time together until June when my family came to spend a week here at my house. Sadly while here, we learned that Mom’s cancer had returned. In July, my husband and I drove through the night to be with Mom when she decided to spend some time in the hospital…that stay went into August as I wouldn’t leave until Mom was back on her feet after daily treatments for an infection. I didn’t see her in September as things were going okay. Then in October we learned that her body could no longer handle the treatments. Despite COVID restrictions, the kind staff at the hospital let my Dad, sister, and I all be present with my Mom when we told her this news. She cried because her daughters were crying. And then she spent the rest of her days doing what she loved…spending time with her family. In November, my husband and I spent a week with Mom who was feeling good because she was done with treatment. We made her favorite foods, talked, played cards, and sorted through her book collection. In December, we wore matching pajamas on Christmas and made good memories. 2020 was a year spent with family despite the pandemic.
I had planned to go back in February to spend more quality time with Mom. As January was nearing its end, my sister called to update me on Mom’s decline. My husband and I got there as fast as we could for Mom’s last days. On February 2, 2021, my Mom died.
Today is a day to celebrate mothers. I support celebrating mothers. I wish I could celebrate with mine in person. I cannot. Instead I am spending this weekend remembering her and celebrating who she was/is to me. I am giving thanks for her life. Also, I am crying and laughing and missing her.
Mom and I in Florida in February 2020.
Recently I was introduced to the song Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran. This beautiful song about grief has been one of my companions this weekend. I love the way the song ends.
“Hallelujah You were an angel in the shape of my mum You got to see the person I have become Spread your wings and I know That when God took you back he said Hallelujah You’re home”
I am finding comfort in these words because while I would have loved twenty more years with my Mom I am thankful for the 43 years I knew her. I am thankful she knew me through my childhood, my awkward teenage years when I told her she was the meanest mother in the world (she loved to remind me of this story), college and seminary, my first call to a church and ordination, my wedding, countless moves, job changes, and all of the good and bad times in my life. She was cheering me on and wanting the best for me every day. While I am thankful that she is free from pain and with God, my sadness and grief are too big for me to join in with a hallelujah because her death means my Mom isn’t here for me to talk with today. I am thankful that God’s love for me is big enough that I can express all that I am feeling and know that God loves me still.
I am sharing my story in the hopes that it helps someone else out there who needed to read this story of love and grief today. Embrace whatever you are feeling on this day and know that God loves you.
Mom and I at Camp Albemarle for the church retreat in May 2011.
This week I have been thinking about these words describing what is lost when a loved one dies.
I shared them in this space years ago when talking about the parts of my story lost when my buddy, Kristi, died too young.
This week I have been thinking of my mother and the memories we shared together. I miss her. I know she took many of our memories with her that I relied on her to tell me. A joy at my Mom’s funeral visitation was a visit from a dear friend I have not seen in years. He came and shared memories of my Mom driving us to and from jr high and high school activities, bringing us food, and being in the audience at all our performances. These were times I had not thought about in years. He came and shared Mom’s story with me, and it meant so much.
Also, this week I have been thinking about losing our stories in relation to changes in our lives. When we move, change jobs, a coworker changes jobs, finish school, end a relationship, etc. all of these are times when we lose a part of our story. While these changes are not as final as the death of a loved one, most of us only rarely or occasionally take the time to share stories with others when we have moved on.
Because of all the changes that happen in our lives, parts of our story exist in so many different people and places. Today I am thinking of my loved ones who shared my story and whose stories I must pass along because they no longer can tell them. I am thinking of church families in churches where I worshipped and served. I am thinking of neighbors in places I no longer live. I am thinking of educators and classmates who taught me and learned with me. I am thinking of coworkers in jobs I have left and those who have left this job I love. I am thinking of my family and friends near and far who have walked this journey with me. I am missing all of you and holding all our stories in my heart.
These stories, the ones I remember and the ones others must remind me of and the ones only remembered by others, make me who I am today. I am thankful that while some of these stories may never be told out loud again I am living them in the choices I make and the person I am. Thank you all for holding a piece of my story.
On this day 9 years ago, I said goodbye to my best friend. I mark this day each year by sharing her stories, being extra kind to others, and enjoying some fun food/beverages. This year will be no different.
Here are some important things to remember about grief.
-There is no timeline on grief. It is not weird or strange that nine years later I still observe this day. It is also not weird or strange if you do not remember the date of a loved one’s death. It is not weird or strange if you find yourself somewhere in between!
-There are many different ways to grieve. You can pick the ways you remember your loved ones who have died. I recommend not judging how others grieve, and not letting comments from others upset the way you are grieving.
-Grieving is hard work. Be kind to yourself on the hard grief days. Be aware of how you are feeling and the things/words that bring your emotions closer to the surface.
In memory of my buddy, Kristi, raise a glass of your favorite beverage and toast those you love near and far and drink in their honor and memory.
No matter how you are currently feeling about COVID-19, there is one thing on which we can all agree it has affected our lives. Over the past year, it has been a regular topic of conversation and has changed the way we live our lives.
Recently the conversations I have heard have been about what is the right thing to do. If I’m vaccinated, can I do this? How should vaccinated and unvaccinated people interact? When will I get the vaccine? How long will this last? So many questions are focused on what is the right thing to do for myself and for others.
While pondering all these questions, a colleague sent me an article from TIME called “We’re in the Third Quarter of the Pandemic. Antarctic Researchers, Mars Simulation Scientists, and Navy Submarine Officers Have Advice for How to Get Through It” by Tara Law.
The article says that the “third quarter phenomeon” was first named by researchers in 1991 who were observing people living in cold climates who had no choice but to isolate due to the weather. They noted changes in the moods of people nearing the end of their time of isolation. Whilte this is still a theory, it might apply to how some of us are feeling in this 3rd Quarter of COVID-19. Vaccines are rolling out. Restrictions are easing. The weather is improving. What are we to do?
This article talks about the similiarties people felt in isolation and encourages the reader to be aware of how one is feeling. As we can see the light beginning to peak out at the end of the tunnel, you may find yourself “irritable, unhappy, or otherwise off”. This is because we are all tired of how it has been, looking ahead to what is coming, and tired of putting in the extra effort required to continue to isolate and distance.
What helped those in the article? “Focusing on the mission.” As far as COVID-19 is concerned, our mission hasn’t changed. We want to slow the spread and keep each other safe and healthy. This article recommended caring for yourself and doing things to feed your spirit as together we live through this 3rd Quarter of COVID.
Let us pray. Holy One, we are tired. We are tired of being 6 feet apart from each other. We are tired of wearing our masks. We are tired of hand santizing and washing our hand although we will continue to do so. Give us the strength to keep on keeping on. Remind us of your love for each of us and how we are called to care for each other. Help us when it is hard. Thank you for all who have worked so dilligently to beat this virus. Help us to see our small steps as ways we support each other. In your holy name we pray. Amen.
