From Robert Spear MD (retired) commenting on December 18, 2024 PAAD Hospice, palliative care, and the death of a child. A mother's perspective
Having worked with amazingly supportive social workers, child-life therapists, nurses and especially oncologists in the PICU, I am beyond thankful that these people often filled in the gaps in my empathy as they possessed the almost congenital ability to connect with and comfort grieving families. Education and training are critical, but in daily practice, some people just excel in this difficult field; I admire them immensely. More training please, especially from parents who didn’t get the best when they needed to.
I was somewhat surrounded by death (not in a bad way) as a child, and like most people, wanted no part of dealing with the grief of families in their most difficult of days. My parents were both undertakers as was my brother. I remember watching my mom interact with the three grade school children whose mom was killed in a car accident. My mom happened to be a close friend of the kids’ mom and I played with the middle son. I asked her what she said as she greeted the kids with hugs in the back of the chapel. She said, “I told them let’s go up and see your mom”. (In the casket!) The family business was not calling me, no way no how.
Over the years, I talked about “death” with my brother Jeff, who died last December from a brain tumor. He had taken over the funeral business in the tired, yet lovely Midwestern town that we grew up in and comforted hundreds (thousands?) of grieving people much like mom and dad did in their generation. Jeff was my lifeline reference for “what to say” to grieving parents, especially in my early PICU years. “Just talk to them. Talk to them like you’d talk to anyone else. Ask them about their child”. He always stressed that death was a normal part of life, and not to avoid using the words death or dying. (The grieving author of the NYT piece used those words herself—65 times). I kind of knew Jeff was better at helping folks deal with loss; mom and dad gave him that gift.
Finally, traditional funerals with a “visitation”, “viewing” or wake the day prior to the funeral are nearly extinct in California. Instead, a “celebration of life” at a golf course 6-8 weeks later is in vogue. That way, nobody is too sad, right? It’s almost like nobody really died, they just “passed away”. Yes, Jeff had the traditional open casket visitation five days after he died from 2pm until 7pm. It’s also somewhat traditional (or at least acceptable) that people might choose to arrive 30 min early to “avoid the line”. I was still surprised when over 200 early-birds were milling around the church at 1:45pm, avoiding a line that later stretched for over 2 hours, totaling 800 people who I gather had come to honor someone who had made their anguish at some horrible, unexpected time in their lives more bearable. I am proud of his ability and desire to help people in pain. He walked toward the fire; my instinct was to walk away.