Friend Grief and the Holidays

Now that we’re past Halloween, the holidays are upon us. You may not be ready, but they’re coming anyway. For the first time in a long time, I will have my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving. But that was a self-defense decision, as I have an unusual amount of holiday commitments this year.

This may be a year in which you’ve lost a friend – or more than one. We tend to think of grieving during the holidays in the context of losing a family member. That’s often the case. It’s been forty years since my uncle died in a car accident less than two weeks before Christmas. There was not much to celebrate that year. Even when a death occurs much earlier in the year, the holidays become one of those ‘firsts’ we struggle to get through.

But little attention is paid to those who are missing a friend during the holidays. That grief is every bit as important. It’s just too often dismissed.

That’s why this Wednesday, Nov. 5, I’ll be the guest on a Google+ hangout on that very topic.

CHANGES, hosted by Sally Ember, will be live from 10-11am EST. You can be a part of it or check it out afterwards, if the time conflicts with your schedule.

Here are the links:

Wednesday, November 5 - , LIVE:

            Or catch our conversation any time on YouTube:

I hope to see you there with lots of questions for us! If you can’t make it, but would like to have your question answered, email me at victorianoe@friendgrief.com, and I’ll do my best to include it in our discussion.

Death Cafe and Other Events

I’ve been co-facilitating Death Café events in Chicago for almost a year now. Our events have attracted over 150 attendees. Some of those who attended are now facilitating their own Death Cafés, and I couldn’t be more excited.

For those not familiar with Death Café, I highly recommend their website. You’ll not only learn the history, but read fascinating accounts of what people are doing in Death Cafés in the UK, Canada, Italy, Australia and all around the US. No two are the same, but all have the same goal: to provide a safe, supportive environment for people to discuss issues surrounding death and dying, with a goal to making the most of their finite lives.

After our last event – which was filled up two weeks in advance – my partner and I sat down for a series of discussions. Obviously the need is there. The evaluations were glowing and some offered suggestions for improvement (which we’re implementing). But was there more we could offer? Were people looking for more specific kinds of discussions related to death and dying?

What we came up with was a series of events to meet different needs and interests:

Death Café: This is our introduction to death and dying issues, for people who have never attended a Death Café. We have group discussions, individual activities, as well as with a partner. As much as we can, we allow the attendees to drive the discussion topics, always with a goal of allowing people to consider their legacy. On October 28, we’ll be back at Curt’s Café in Evanston, Illinois.

"Friend Grief": This is a themed event for those who have attended a Death Café and asked for more! Our first one will be led by me at Drake & Sons Funeral Home in Chicago on October 23 and will address friend grief. Other topics are in the pipeline.

Field trips: Now at first glance, you might think our events would be limited to locations such as cemeteries or funeral homes, and that’s possible (though our first themed event will take place in a funeral home). But they’re meant to be gatherings that are more casual than sitting around a table in a room. Our first one, on October 14, is a kayaking excursion at Skokie Lagoons in Glencoe, Illinois.

Ultimately, our goal is to eliminate the resistance to attending a Death Café - or any event where the discussion is revolves around death and making the most of your life. Don’t want to set foot in a funeral home? Then come to a coffeehouse. Don’t want to discuss living wills? Then come to a Death Café where we’ll talk about lots of things.

So if you’re in the Chicago area, join us! If not, check the Death Café website for a list of upcoming events in your area. You can also find out how to host your own Death Café. It’s easy. It’s fascinating. It’s even fun.

And you’ll be surprised how much you learn about yourself in a very short time.

 

 

Helping Friends Pick Funeral Music

There seem to be two types of funerals.

One is the kind that makes us cringe, may even make us angry. It’s where the person leading the service never met the person who died. It’s obvious – they ramble on in general, pious terms. They mispronounce the deceased’s name. Times like those I want to walk up to the front, say “shut up and sit down” and invite friends and family to do a better job.

Then there are those we never forget. I’ve been to a few, where the eulogies made us laugh, made us cry, and even made us give standing ovations. And the music…well, the music makes all the difference.

I remember walking into my friend Delle’s apartment a few weeks before she died. “Do you want to see my urn?” she asked. Honestly, I didn’t: I didn’t want to think about the inevitable. But she showed it to me anyway: a gorgeous, cobalt blue (her favorite color). She was, when I got there, choosing the music for her funeral.

Now not everyone has the luxury of time to plan their own funeral, once they know they’re dying. That’s why I’m becoming more and more insistent that my family and friends think about this now.

There are as many different kinds of funerals as there are people: religious, secular, sad, celebratory, indoors, outdoors. And for a control freak like me, it’s one last chance to be in charge.

So here’s a question for you, the next time you’re with your best friend:

What kind of music do you want at your funeral?

Use this blog post as an excuse, or maybe refer to the funeral of a mutual friend. While there are many hymns I like (and a couple are on my list of instructions), there are some decidedly non-religious ones that I like. Who can forget Alex’s funeral at the beginning of The Big Chill:

"You Can't Always Get What You Want"

In a very unscientific poll on Facebook, Eileen suggested that one right away. Annie preferred to go in a slightly different – though somewhat obvious direction:

"Stairway to Heaven"

I popped a cd in the car yesterday (Paul McCartney’s “Memory Almost Full”) and was reminded of this one:

"The End of the End"

Then again, you may want to end with a little humor, like this oldie from Norman Greenbaum, which my friend Mary and I both like:

"Spirit in the Sky"

Whatever you choose, whatever you and your friends agree on, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you begin to think about how you want to be remembered.

Part of that is your legacy: what do you leave behind? Did you leave the world a better place?

The other is your funeral: did you give your friends one last way to remember you?

Cue the music.

 

What’s on your play list?

 

Here’s my top pick:

"I Happen to Like New York"

Scattering Ashes at Death Cafe'

Monday night we had another successful Death Café in Evanston, Illinois. Nearly 50 people joined us for coffee, tea, cookies and muffins while we talked about issues surrounding death and dying.

We broke up into four groups, each led by a facilitator, for an hour. The conversations were wide-ranging and passionate. My group included people of various religions and no religion; male and female; college-age through retirement. No one was required to share, but most had feelings they wanted to express. Honestly, we could’ve talked for hours.

At one point, in discussing our own final wishes, we focused on burial vs. cremation, and, in the latter case, how to dispose of the ashes. Fears of being caught spreading ashes in a place that’s restricted were assuaged by offers to help do the deed.

One woman expressed a concern that I believe was on the minds of many there: what happens if your family is all gone? How do you make your final wishes known when you’re the last of your family?

So I thought that was a good situation to share here today. Maybe you know someone – maybe elderly, maybe not – who has no close relatives. Maybe they are, like this woman, the last of their family. Maybe that describes you.

You may not have a will. You may not have designated someone your medical power of attorney. You may not want to think about it at all. That means “Five Wishes” is for you.

The Five Wishes are:

·         Who you want to make health care decisions for you when you can't make them.

·         The kind of medical treatment you want or don't want.

·         How comfortable you want to be.

·         How you want people to treat you.

·         What you want your loved ones to know.

Now is the time, while you’re healthy and able to make these decisions for yourself. No family? Ask your friends. Again, it’s an uncomfortable conversation for many people. But one that will avoid all kinds of complications down the line.

For more information on the Five Wishes document (which meets legal requirements in 42 states), check the Aging with Dignity website.

And have some fun, too. Your funeral will be your last chance to make your friends laugh.

What A Death Café is All About

Dan Bulf and I recently facilitated our second Death Café in the Chicago area, this time in the near north suburb of Evanston. It was a huge success, just in terms of numbers: more than double what we expected.

Our next one will be held August 19 in a larger space, at the Evanston Public Library. That one’s filling up very quickly, too. We will undoubtedly have to cut off registrations soon, especially because of the great press coverage we’ve received. REGISTRATION IS NOW CLOSED.

Here is a terrific article by Jessica Reynolds in this weekend’s Chicago Tribune. It gives you a real sense of what it’s like to be there: the conversation, the emotion, the camaraderie.

You can sign up for our mailing list, and be the first notified about future Death Café events in the Chicago area.

For more background on the Death Café movement around the world, just check out Jon Underwood’s site.

These are conversations that are often much-avoided and long overdue. What are you waiting for?

 

Fun at a Death Café? Sure!

On July 15, Dan Bulf and I held our second Chicago-area Death Café. We’d hoped for 20 people, but we were stunned when our lovely room at Curt’s Café in Evanston was filled to overflowing with 40. The poor air conditioning couldn’t keep up. Thank God for iced tea!

There were many there whose work involves confronting death: hospital chaplains, social workers, grief counselors, hospice volunteers. There were men and women of various ethnic groups and a wide age range: 20’s to a self-professed 87 years old. But that didn’t mean they had talked about their own, personal feelings about death.

We broke into four groups for wide-ranging conversations about our attitudes towards death and dying, particularly our own death. I was not surprised to hear quite a few identify the death of someone close to them as a catalyst. Sometimes that inspired them to devote their career to helping others have a good death. Sometimes it caused them to take a hard look at their own lives, including their legacy. There were those who talked about death and dying issues all day, but had a hard time when asked how they felt about their own.

That’s what a Death Café is all about: providing a safe, open, respectful environment for talking about death and dying. You’re with a group of (probable) strangers talking about a subject that’s often impossible to bring up with family and friends. It’s a time to share your feelings and learn that you are not alone in struggling with how to live a life that makes a difference. Because, let’s face it: part of having a good death is realizing that your life mattered.

The evaluations were terrific. When asked to give three words to describe their experience, the top responses were: interesting, comfortable, open, enlightening (yes, I know, that’s four – there was a tie). Typical comments included:

“It reinforced how important open discussions are.”

“I am more at ease talking about my own death.”

“Moving to hear others’ perspectives on death.”

And yes, there was laughter, especially when we talked about what makes up a fun funeral (a good topic for a future blog post). Many there – and since – have asked when we’re doing another one.

We are planning our next Death Café for Monday August 19, also in Evanston. Details will go up on the “Events” page here as soon as they’re finalized. If you already know you can’t attend or want to be on our email list for future Chicago-area Death Cafes, click here.

To those who joined us, thank you. You endured a steamy evening to discuss a difficult subject with courage and grace.

If you want to learn more about the Death Café movement, including how to hold one of your own, check out Jon Underwood’s Death Café website.

Don’t Ask…Do Tell

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Last week I posed a couple of questions: If a friend of yours had a terminal illness, would you want to know? If you had a terminal illness, would you want your friends to know?

I got some interesting feedback – both privately and on my Facebook page.

For the exact same reasons, the consensus was:

“I’d definitely want my friends to tell me. But I wouldn’t tell my friends.”

I wasn’t terribly surprised that people feel that way. Often we expect others to do things we ourselves are reluctant to do.

But…

This isn’t expecting someone to bail us out of jail or share their psych notes. This is about sharing something so serious that anything else pales in comparison (with the possible exception of telling someone we love them).

“I’d definitely want my friends to tell me.”

Why?

Well, there were several answers: to not be blindsided, to find out the facts, to help, to be a comfort to their friends. We’re talking about people we love. We want to help ease their anxiety and pain in any way we can.

No one thought their behavior would change. They assumed they would act normally around their friend.

“But I wouldn’t want to tell my friends.”

Why then, does it not work both ways?

That ‘look’ is what people didn’t want to see: the look that is really deep concern, but often interpreted as pity. They assumed their friends would treat them differently.

Knowing a secret can be exhilarating. It can also be lonely. Knowing you are going to die – not in a theoretical, but a very immediate sense – if a profound experience. You have no instruction book or guide. No one can tell you the answers to the questions that keep you awake at night.

But keeping a secret like that from your friends not only unnecessarily isolates you, but it hurts your friends. You may not know how hurt they are. But you will hurt them. Because they will also be asking ‘why’?

Why wouldn’t he tell me?

Why wouldn’t she let me help?

Why did he suffer alone?

Why didn’t she love me?

I had a friend who shared her battle against breast cancer, but only to a point. She wouldn’t let anyone visit her, much less help her. In fact, there were only three people she’d talk to on the phone. For reasons I still don’t understand, I was one of the three.

When she died, her friends gathered at the funeral parlor. We sat in the back of the room together: the angriest group of people you’d ever want to (not) meet. It wasn’t enough that we were angry she had died. We were also angry that she’d shut us out. Because even though we couldn’t cure her cancer, we believed we could’ve made her last weeks a little more comfortable.

That was her decision, and we had to respect it. Everyone’s entitled to make their own decisions about who they share their diagnosis with. But it didn’t diffuse the anger.

But for those of you who expect your friends to do something you’d refuse to do…think about your friends. And how angry they’d be.

And think about how angry you’d be if the situation were reversed.