Grief and Loss Across the Lifespan, Second Edition

224 Grief and Loss Across the Lifespan

a stranger who had no idea who I was (and she did not try to find out) or what

I really wanted. Advice to “helpers”: Ask if the bereaved want your company

or if they would rather be left alone or with their friends, and certainly do not

make it a dramatic reading of a prayer if that is not the person’s wish.

Finally, one of the nurses came in to tell me it was time to see Jack. She

prepared me by telling me in a calm voice how he would look—with a tube

in his mouth and a brace on his neck. She also said they had exposed his right

hand and arm so I could hold it. She warned me not to lay across Jack or move

the sheet—she wanted me to see him as I knew him. She was very calm. As

I was led down the hall by the two nurses, the chaplain came with us. I have

never seen someone so soon after death or touched anyone who was deceased.

I remember I was so relieved that he was still warm. The thought of him being

cold just scared me so much. The nurses came in and out periodically to see how

I was doing—although they did not crowd me. One nurse asked if I wanted a

lock of his hair, which I did, of course. She quite lovingly cut his hair and put

it in a little satin bag and gave it to me. They were not intrusive and left me

alone with Jack for a few moments at a time. They made sure they were in the

background if I needed them but they were very respectful of my last time with

my husband. Unfortunately the chaplain kept coming in and hovering way too

close to me. I felt like she was intruding on my last precious moments with Jack.

I just wanted her out, but I did not have the strength to tell her.

I left the hospital with Rosalie and my brothers-in-law got there just

after I left. The rest of Jack’s family did not go to the hospital to say good-bye.

I stayed with Rosalie that night. I called our doctor to let his office know what

had happened. He called me later that night to offer his condolences and set

up an appointment. He also ordered a sedative for me if I needed it. That

night, I had to begin to make arrangements for Jack’s cremation; Jack and I had

talked about death a number of times, so I knew what he wanted. No view-

ing, just a cremation and a big party for his friends. I started to make calls to

family, friends, and the funeral director. I made arrangements so Jack’s family

could go to the funeral home to say good-bye before he was cremated. The

contacts with his family were very strained and remained a source of pain for

much of my bereavement. The next day I returned home and continued mak-

ing arrangements and phone calls to family and friends. Although these calls

happen for most people after a death, I had an additional layer of the people

investigating what happened at the pier—the union, the owners of the pier,

the Office of Occupational Safety and Health Administration, the police, to

name just a few.

My Grief Over Time

The first months after Jack died seem like a blur of arrangements: I had to deal

with the union, find out who was exploring the accident on the pier (OSHA

and others), deal with bills and getting his last check and try to communicate

with his family. I had friends and family supporting me who told me I was

strong, but I felt numb and overwhelmed. I felt like I was going through the

motions just to get through the day. A friend told me to get a notebook and

track the phone calls, the to-do list, and that kind of thing. That helped because

my brain only worked half as well as usual and there were so many details