Memorial Services

T E A R S
it seems like the one thing that the World and all of its inhabitants actually universally share, no mater who we are or how tough or weak we think we are
e s p e c i a l l y
when someone we love dies. . .

This past week I was doing a funeral for an elderly man who had no immediate family, but he had cousin-in-laws and their families who came to celebrate his life.

I’ve long believed that the thing about weddings and now funerals, is that the the only thing that’s traditional about either of them, is that there is nothing traditional about either of them anymore. No two day visitations and the third day a funeral. A lot of the funerals that I conduct (usually 26 a month) sometimes are months down the road, (like the two I already have scheduled the day after Thanksgiving)

This particular funeral had the person having died three weeks ago, but it was the only time everyone could actually come together because of out of town circumstances. There were less than 15 people attending, including the 6 children of various ages.

I was tempted to just have us literally circle the chairs and just talk about “George.” There was no a somber tone to the service especially with the little ones literally running around and just as I finished the short welcome and opening prayer, 2 and 1/2 yr old Xavier comes running over to me, full sprint with arms open wide and jumps up into my arms. Mind you, I’ve never met this family or this little guy. There was a gasp from the family and then laughter as he shouted out, “I LOVE YOU!”

My service towards to him as I told him how happy I was that he was there and that I got to meet him. As he wiggled out of my arms he reached into his pocket and pulled out a mangled band-aid and put it on my shoe
And he before I could thank him, he told me if was for my Boo Boo and then hugged my leg and said, “ALL BETTER”

The reaction was mixed horrified but mostly laughter. How could you not “Ahhhhh” that?

Before we finished the celebration of “George” Xavier was back in my arms waving at everybody which ended with a loud B E L C H. . .
G R I E F
comes to us in so many different ways,
NOT ALWAYS SAD
In his own way,
Xavier taught us a valuable lesson
that the famous poet, Robert Frost
once tried to share with us long ago
when he said that all he knows about life can be summed up in 3 words:
“IT GOES ON”

When Xavier’s parents and grandparents came up to me following the service, red-faced and apologetic, I thanked them for BRINGING Xavier instead of having him at home or back at the hotel with a babysitter, to prove again, LIFE GOES ON as it does. He showed us all that we walk around with Boo Boo’s that may not be in need of band-aids so much as hugs that make us feel, “ALL BETTER”

. . .on the way home, band-aid still on my shoe, I thought, when’s the last time I BROUGHT that and grateful then and now, that Xavier, my small
Caring Catalyst friend,
D I D

How many Dr’s does it take to change a light bulb. . . ?

We all know a Doctor, most likely several of them.

We all have no doubt needed one, most likely more than once and for more than one thing. . . .

I had already known and worked with Dr. Jeff Spiess several years in the hospice setting when this story took place.

A Social Worker and I were meeting with a patient who had just come into the Hospice facility. We had just introduced ourselves, our roles and reasons for visiting with her and her daughter when Dr. Jeff came into the room.

He was beginning to apologize for interrupting us, when the patient said it was alright for all of us to be together with her and her daughter to talk with her.

Dr. Jeff once said that if there’s no empty seats in room, “SIT ON THE PORTABLE COMMODE, BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS CLEAN IT!”

Finding no bedside commode, he did one better: He sat on the floor in front of the patient and her daughter.

He asked her what her goals were and she went into a huge dissertation about how she was going to begin radiation therapy and then wanted to return home.

Dr. Spiess asked her a most awesome question that I had never heard another Doctor ask:

“Do I have permission to tell you some difficult news?”

She agreed.

“Well, Mrs. Johnson (I’m hip to HIPPA–not her real name), I’ve reviewed your chart and spoke with your primary physician and oncologist and not only don’t I think that the two weeks of radiation therapy will do much good, there’s a very strong chance that it will cause you even more pain and you most likely will not be able to survive it.”

Mrs. Johnson and her daughter both began to cry while the three of us provided supportive, quiet presence. It probably wasn’t any more than two minutes as we sat there with them and then the patient, in the arms of her daughter said, “THANK YOU. . .thank you for telling us the truth.”

Dr. Jeff then asked the next best question: “Knowing what you now know, what can I do for you? How can I help?”

Mrs. Johnson told us that she would like to just go home and be with her family.

Dr. Spiess told her he could make that happen and asked if she’d like to go THAT afternoon or the next morning.

Mrs. Johnson said she wanted to go that afternoon and we all confirmed that there would be medical equipment and medications to make that possible.

Dr. Jeff PERSONIFIED the Hospice philosophy at that moment.

Mrs. Johnson died ten days later.

I had the honor of conducting her Memorial Services. Her daughter spoke during the service and told
T H A T story. I’ll never forget, though it’s been several years now, what she said next:

“We came to a hospice facility searching for a cure and we found a Doctor who offered HEALING. Dr. Spiess didn’t give us years to be with our mother, but he provided precious moments we’ll have for the rest of our years!”

HOW MANY DOCTORS DOES IT TAKE TO CHANGE A LIGHT BULB?

Psssssst: When it’s the RIGHT DOCTOR–ZERO–no additional Light needed.

Dr. Jeffery Spiess is retiring today from Hospice of the Western Reserve, but not from the Memories, the Hearts, the Lives of many he’s treated and touched. . .Mine included. I’m a better chaplain, husband, father, grandfather, friend and joke-teller. . . .

Somehow. . .

GOOD BYE

doesn’t seem as appropriate as

T H A N K
Y O U !

Doctoring

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