Since my dad’s death in March, many people have wondered aloud to me if it is difficult to do my work around dying, death and grief during a time when I’m on my own grief journey. I appreciate the concern and admit that I have been paying close attention to how it all feels and how I’m processing it. What I’m learning is, I value my work even more.
For my work facilitating grief education and support gatherings, I am a grief companion. What I am not is a mental health professional. My role as a grief companion is to walk beside people, not to lead them. We are all experts in our own grief, and my purpose is to create safe spaces for others to share stories of loss, learn a little bit about grief, support one another and recognize that we are not alone. As writer Ram Dass put it, “We’re all just walking each other home.”
At these gatherings, I will sometimes talk about my own experiences in order to help foster that safe space. I consider myself fortunate to have so many opportunities to hear other people’s descriptions of love and grief, and, when appropriate, to share mine as well. There is healing in the listening and the telling. During these current days, I’m able to process some of my own grief right along with the grief of others. A common expression is that grief shared is grief diminished. I am grateful that with my work I get to take part in that sharing and diminishing.
As for my work with families to create and officiate at personalized memorial and funeral services, I appreciate that work even more now too. After my father’s visitation, memorial and graveside services, I know firsthand the power and the purpose they can serve.
The visitation allowed me to see people I hadn’t seen for years, hear stories I hadn’t heard before, learn how Dad touched others in ways I didn’t know and feel love and support surrounding me. All 12 grandchildren traveled from around the country to be there, and it was at the visitation that they were all together for the first time ever. The last time they were together, the youngest grandchild hadn’t been born yet. Watching them reminisce and connect, I saw the evidence of the effect my dad had on our family.
The memorial service gave us a way to honor Dad in a public way. I had the opportunity to share stories about Dad that we compiled as a family. We had a candle lighting ceremony where my mom lit a center candle to represent the light of Dad’s life, and each of my siblings and our families came forward and lit individual candles from the center candle to show the light he brought to our lives and that still lives on in this world. We took communion because that was important to Dad. And we listened to a recording of Dad singing the Lord’s Prayer.
The graveside service enabled us to honor Dad in even more ways. We were reminded that we were returning him to the place he began — “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” My brother sang a prayer. The local legion presented military honors. My professional trumpeter nephew played “Taps.” My siblings and I got down on our knees, placed Dad’s urn in the ground together and each threw a handful of dirt on top. Everyone else then placed flowers and/or dirt on his urn. We were with Dad to his final resting place.
Even though I believe strongly in the purpose of these services and participating in them, I was surprised at how well they “held” me in this personal moment. They held me so I could let go and feel everything I was feeling — both grief and gratitude. I shed many tears, laughed at times as well and connected with others who loved Dad and loved me. I was exhausted and I felt lighter. It was exactly what I needed to do. And I wasn’t the only one. Out of the blue, my 24-year-old son recently said to me, “Grandad’s services were really cathartic for me.” I am grateful that with my work, I can help create services to hold others.
And for my work as an end-of-life doula, my journey with Dad solidified for me the need for non-medical support as a loved one dies. Two end-of-life doulas helped as my dad lay dying and their wisdom buoyed me. I am grateful that with my work, I can do the same for others.
Thank you to all of you who’ve cared and been concerned about how I’m handling my work during this time of personal grief. Please know I’m doing it with even greater conviction than before.
If you’ve lost a loved one, I invite you to join me at one of the following gatherings:
- Virtual Monday’s Moments Gatherings, “Transforming Pain Into Growth” on Monday, May 13, from noon to 1:30 p.m. on Zoom.
- Med-Knit-ations: Knitting Our Hearts Back Together in partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Tuesday, May 14, from noon to 1:30 p.m. at Tom Tudek Park, 400 Herman Drive, State College.
- Stories of Loss in Partnership with Juniper at Brookline on Tuesdays, May 14 and 28, from 4:30 to 6 p.m. at Juniper at Brookline, 1950 Cliffside Drive, State College.
- Monday’s Moments at Sunset Park in Partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Monday, May 20, from noon to 1:30 p.m. at Schlow Library, 211 S. Allen St., State College.
- Death Cafe Virtual Gathering on Monday, April 15, from 4:30 to 5:30 p.m. on Zoom.
More information can be found on the Bereavement Gatherings and Events page of the Koch Funeral Home website. To reserve your spot and receive the invitation links, email Jackie@JackieHook.com, call 814-237-2712 or visit the Koch Funeral Home Facebook page.
Jackie Naginey Hook, is a spiritual director, celebrant and end-of-life doula. She coordinates the Helping Grieving Hearts Heal program through Koch Funeral Home in State College. For more information, please call 814-237-2712 or visit kochfuneralhome.com.
