Bereavement

Ian Wright and Carole Sutton suggest ways that Friends can help each other grieve

The loss of a close relationship is widely recognised as one of the most stressful of all experiences. A gathering of the ‘Mental health in Meetings’ group, drawn from Leicester Area Meeting Friends, in November 2017, focused upon what we may be able to learn from others’ experiences of bereavement and grief, which may support us in our own losses. The following notes emerged.

While bereavement typically refers to the loss of a close human relationship by death, it may also describe the loss of an ongoing relationship, by separation or divorce, or the loss of employment or, indeed, identity (as in becoming a refugee). While physical wounds are often evident to others, emotional wounds may be hidden, sometimes deliberately or of necessity, because the bereaved person has to continue to work or to function in an important role, such as a teacher.

Preparing

In some circumstances, where a person has a recognised terminal illness, it may be possible for those involved to actively prepare for bereavement. Questions such as ‘How am I going to cope without you?’ and ‘What arrangements can we make now together, so that we all know what will happen?’ can be sensitively explored.

In our discussions, Friends made suggestions that had been helpful in their differing circumstances. One said that her husband had placed brief loving notes in books they had both enjoyed, among clothes, in cupboards and notebooks, which she found later, with tears but gratitude. Another person said that planting bulbs could keep the memory of the deceased alive for years to come. A third suggested compiling a memory box – either together, before or after a bereavement – in which special items such as the person’s pen, spectacles or favourite book of poems could be kept. Such boxes may be particularly helpful and consoling in the circumstances of a stillbirth or neonatal birth, so that the reality of the existence of the child who has been lost can be actively acknowledged. Other members of the group spoke of continuing to refer to the bedroom of the person who had died as ‘Peter’s room’ or ‘Granny’s room’; their essence thereby living on.

The immediate experience

Members of the group spoke of the reality of the pain which they experienced, similar to that of a major wound, and which could only be relieved by allowing one’s emotions to flood out, often by crying, crying, crying. One person spoke of needing to be alone on frequent occasions so that she could actively howl, as an animal in deep distress; this was a primitive, visceral experience, but one which relieved the real physical pain and anguish she was experiencing.

People respond to trauma differently, of course. Whereas some will need to weep for days, weeks and months, others will contain their grief because of cultural expectations or the lack of a setting in which it can be expressed. One person recalled hearing about the death of a baby to which the mother scarcely reacted until the impending birth of her next child, when she expressed intense distress and grief for the lost child.

Friends and neighbours

Members of the group agreed that, in a multicultural society greatly in flux, we do not know how to behave supportively around bereaved people. Some in our group said that in their families it was customary for friends and neighbours to come and pay their respects to the dead person, who was laid in the coffin for all to see.

This practice may be less common nowadays, but many funeral directors offer a chapel of rest, so that family and friends can come to spend time with the person who has died. This practice, however, has its own hazards: we know of one setting where the staff had, with the best of intentions, applied cosmetics and lipstick to the face of a person who had never worn them in life. This made the experience even more alien and distressing.

Some members of the group said that they just could not bear to have people call unexpectedly to offer condolences. They were so exhausted by coping with their own bereavement that to enter into the distress of visitors was just beyond them. Others welcomed the support of close friends and found their visits a source of comfort.

Some communities have very well-established patterns of response to a bereavement: with a set number of days for not visiting, then having brief visits and, later, longer visits. Jewish traditions, for example, tend to have clearly set out patterns of time for mourning and these can give helpful guidance to those wishing to show respect.

What may be helpful?

We agreed that great sensitivity is called for. Established cultural practices are changing and will be changing again, as Britain becomes an ever more multicultural society.

We thought that whatever the cultural background of the family, a message could be sent by a family friend to clarify what would be acceptable: cards and letters can convey empathy and concern, but, in some families, even phone calls may be experienced as intrusive. Letters can helpfully refer to episodes that the writer recalls concerning the departed loved one; episodes which highlight their character or something that they achieved. Offers of help with travel may be welcome, to visit hospitals, distant relatives or solicitors.

We thought that when meeting members of a bereaved family, it is usually appropriate to speak of the person who has died; even if this leads to tears; at least this avoids the situation of deliberately avoiding speaking of the loss. Overall, bereaved people seem to want to talk of the person they have lost, looking at photographs, recalling events and episodes and reliving occasions that they enjoyed together. One telling of a bereavement is not enough: it seems to be important to enable the story to be told over and over again.

In the longer term, members of the group spoke of a range of different responses which they had found helpful: some had written at length about the person who had died, illustrating the account with poems, photographs and reminiscences; some had found talking to people who had known the person, such as distant relatives or friends, very comforting, while yet others had undertaken pilgrimages, visiting places lived in or familiar to the person who had died.

Of course, many people find it helpful to seek support from a bereavement counsellor. The organisation Cruse Bereavement Care is well-known for the special skills and sensitivity of its counsellors and can offer help to both adults and children. Woodbrooke, too, offers a number of short courses for those bereaved in particular circumstances.

How else might Friends help?

We agreed that Friends do provide a supportive structure to people who have been bereaved, through the links that funeral committees often establish with families in distress, and, in particular, through the Memorial Meetings that are often arranged. But is there anything else that Friends as a body could offer?

One of our number suggested that as well as a Memorial Meeting for a specific person, Friends might arrange a more general Memorial Meeting for people from the Meeting who have died, so that bereaved relatives and friends, who want to remember someone for whom they are still grieving, might join with others to remember those they have lost. This idea is based on the concept of All Souls’ Day, an important occasion in past centuries, but now largely abandoned.

In summary, a number of important experiences and ideas concerning bereavement were brought to this meeting. We hope that others will contribute their views so that we may draw upon each others’ experiences, rather than find that each of us has to plough this, often lonely, furrow alone.

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