Touch-Tone A Prayer

As I entered the modest room, about a dozen friends and family were awkwardly standing all around the patient with his hospital bed as the hypnotic centerpiece. Xavier (pseudonym) could no longer register their existence, and they in turn felt disconnected from each other. Xavier’s daughter had asked for a chaplain and the spontaneous prayer I offered melted away some of the tension. But when I was done no conversation with me ensued, so to conclude the visit graciously, I gave them one of my business cards and explained that the cellphone number listed is my personal one for them to call as needed.

During my time off the next day, the daughter called and asked if I could come pray again. Guess I supplied a high-quality prayer since she wanted seconds. She declared, “There’s only my husband and me this time with Xavier, so it’s more peaceful now and we can concentrate better.” After I told her I was not in the facility that day, I broached the idea of imparting a prayer over the phone. I worried a little that she would think that was a pale substitute, but the power of the word was to prevail. “I’ll put on my loudspeaker and we’ll listen,” she enthused. Thank goodness she requested Psalm 23, because that was about the only Psalm I had in instant reach. After I recited it, she hesitantly asked about sharing a prayer of her own, which of course I urged her to do as I listened. Her prayer was about feeling God’s strength and praying for Xavier’s peaceful passing. I then intuited that I should follow that by softly singing the spiritual, “This Little Light of Mine.”

The couple murmured their appreciation, and the most moving call of the month was at an end.

Advertisements

The Sound of One Phone Ringing

 

Offhand the answer to the following question might sound as obvious as choosing between getting a back rub while relaxing at the beach versus doing the back-breaking work of moving furniture around. If you were a grieving family member of a patient on hospice, would you prefer that the bereavement counselor telephone you or visit in person? If I could see a show of hands from my readers, my guess is that most of you would be wildly waving your hands in favor of the home visit. And if you could explain why, you and a few others chiming in might say something along the lines of, “A phone call is impersonal and quick. It doesn’t take much effort. A visit involves travel and a real time commitment, so that would show the counselor really cares. Besides, there’s nothing like someone being right there with us and understanding what we are feeling by seeing our expressions and gestures. Not only that, we can get a hug that way or a pat on the arm.”

In terms of supervisors evaluating the work of their hospice team, home visits, implicitly or explicitly, trump phone calls. So even hospice professionals themselves assign more value to home visits. They “count” more. I sometimes got skeptical feedback from the supervisor when “all I did” some days was to document that I made about a dozen phone calls.

Ah, but hold the phone. It wasn’t like I was being lazy about going out into the wintry mix and traveling twenty miles. It wasn’t like I was hinting that I was busy or did not let on that a visit could be in their future. If I do not include the calls where the bereaved did not wish to talk with a counselor at all, almost everyone I called preferred a phone call over a visit. You might then say that is because a grieving person can feel unworthy and small. Indeed. Thus if he/she did not out and out decline a visit and seemed at least lukewarm about my proposal, I assured them that for example I would “be traveling right in your area” and the like. Even with that sales pitch, there were relatively few takers. I did start to feel like a pushy salesperson by mentioning visits so much, so as I became a more seasoned chaplain, I learned that what mattered most was to get a conversation going then and there.

Some mourners not only wanted to talk on the phone when I called to offer condolences and see how they were doing, but also wanted to receive subsequent calls. I got to know one of them well enough to reflect why so many in her position did prefer calls over visits. For one thing, she did not have to worry about tidying up the house. For another, she could shed tears without my being aware of it. Nor did she have to feel obligated to talk a relatively long time; accepting a visit implies more of a time commitment. That is, a phone call gives the mourner more control over the length of the interaction.

By far the most interesting reason is the ability to hide feelings, which is something to explore in a future (next?) post. For now, it is of note that the bereaved can be low in energy, and that a visit may be far more taxing than a call. As in much chaplain work, the crucial element is not whether I talk with a person via the phone or Skype or face-to-face or for how long. My job is to deftly clear away the debris of small talk and thus join them in their effort to unleash what they most urgently need to say.

**********************************************

Recent  Event:

 

September 18th Grief expert Chaplain Chaz Wesley  interviewedme on his radio program, From Grief to Grace. Here is the program  link:  Author Karen B. Kaplan on ‘From Grief To Grace, with Chaz Wesley’