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Four Tips on Responding to Death

Today I offer four tips on responding to death from my viewpoint as a recent widow. My words are not a template for dealing with a similar situation in your life. However, it may help you make decisions when you don’t know what to say or do.

Some Background First

My husband died one week ago. He taught history at the high school I attended and lived in the area his entire life.

His death marks my second time as a widow. You might think it would get easier, but it doesn’t. Nor is it a similar experience. For me, this is proof that dealing with the death of a close loved one is unique for each person, each occurrence.

Although I’m writing through the lens of my own experience, I feel it may help you in your experiences.

Four Tips on Responding to Death

Above all else, respect the surviving spouse.
Look into your heart before you act.
Reach out with a loving, personal memory of the loved one.
Listen without judgment.

Respecting the Spouse

Losing a spouse is about as intimate as it gets. No one else knows the reality they are facing. The first days are tough, both from an emotional standpoint and a logistical one. Shock has always been my first reaction. My reaction to shock is action. Even so, it’s challenging to sift through all the possible steps to take.

By respecting the spouse, you allow them to take the time they need. Furthermore, you communicate with them before acting yourself. The reason is simple. Your actions may further complicate and add unneeded stress.

Look Into Your Heart Before Acting

Even though we are all different, some things are universal. We often do something for a less than loving reason. However, if you can take a few moments after you hear the news of the passing to take some deep breaths and honestly ask yourself, “Why am I doing this? Is it out of love or something else?” Then, consider how to best show support and love for all concerned.

Share a Loving Personal Memory

The sweetest moment this past week was a text I received from one of my husband’s close friends.

“For what it’s worth, he expressed to me his joy at reconnecting with you, despite me breaking his b-$$s about it.”

Of course, my first response was a smile and then a warm feeling in my heart. Next, my day suddenly grew even brighter when I read a Facebook message from a student who shared her favorite memory.

Listen Without Judgment

I know a lot about judgment. It’s taken me most of my life to release a great deal of it. But unfortunately, for many of us, stressful situations allow judgment to resurface.

As I spoke or texted with multiple friends, I found that if they judged me, I reacted negatively. However, my resentment softened and disappeared when they allowed me to let it out and gave me loving examples of what the person who judged me may have felt.

Final Thoughts

There are so many sources of stress and upset in our lives. Most of them are from situations outside our control. Although losing a loved one is inevitable, we always choose our words and actions. May peace and understanding be your guide as you navigate loss within your challenging situation.

When Fathers Day is Difficult

This post seems late since Father’s Day was earlier on Sunday. Rather, Father’s Day is difficult for me and I waited until after the holiday to write about it. How many holidays that expect certain emotions or actions are difficult for you? There’s a lot to pick from; Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparent’s Day, Thanksgiving, and many more as this Internet List shows.

Memories are sweeter now, afterward

Looking back is easier today, the pain of loss and grief less pungent. Rather, sweet memories pour over me; the smell of his tobacco smoke, the tickle of his beard when he hugged me, the white salt stains on his work shirt from a day farming in the Florida summer heat, his ability to make me laugh. One prank he pulled especially comes to mind. Whenever I came home to Polk County, I liked to visit Bok Tower Gardens. Dad loved it too. My husband and I were talking as we left our car in the parking lot and Dad and Mom were ahead of us. My inner compass followed Dad without thinking.

When I looked up and realized we weren’t where I expected, I said, “Dad, where did you lead us?”

He grinned and lifted one eyebrow while winking the other eye. I knew I’d been duped again. We were a perfect match. He loved to play practical jokes and I never saw them coming.

Keeping his memory alive

Therefore, I return here, to Bok Tower Gardens often, choosing to volunteer both as an interpretive guide during the cooler months and an historic home docent all year. The many people I meet from all over the globe also remind me how much I’m like my father. He never knew a stranger.

May your memories be as sweet and dear to you as mine are to me.

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Closing a Chapter in My Life

The past 10 days, I’ve flown from Florida to Denver, driven 200 miles to my mother’s home with my sister and son, filtered through mountains of paperwork, pulling out the memories my mother saved, tossed 20 tall kitchen garbage bags, filled 30 boxes of things I couldn’t part with, carefully added a few pieces of furniture and ironwork my late father handcrafted, and now I’m driving a 16’ moving truck (with my 37-year-old son as wingman) the 2,400 miles back to the county where I was born and my husband, 90-year-old mother, and dogs are waiting for me.

Visiting a Sacred Place

The last thing we did before my sister flew back to Orlando was to walk up to the clearing among the rocks where Mom and I spread my father’s ashes in 2015. Just last year I could still see remnants in the dry desert soil. Now it seemed the landscape had changed the past twelve months, but I found my intersecting landmarks; a dead piñon pine and the outcropping where my husband and I exchanged our marriage vows exactly three years ago. A sagebrush had doubled in size just outside the small circle rimmed with rocks, placed with love and care. Each of us scooped up a few spoonfuls of sand to take home, placing them in emptied spice containers from the kitchen cabinet. I thought, “The remnants of the spice or herb will add an exotic hint when we open them later.”

Leaving is Hard for Everyone

Neighbors helped us load our belongings in the rented moving truck, handshakes and hugs completed the task. One special friend remained behind, visiting in the living room where she had listened to my Mother’s stories about Florida and the many backpacking and later RV trips she and my Dad had taken over the 65 years they were together. The friend and I held each other tight, soothing our sobs with mutual back rubs. We dried our tears on our sleeves and as I held the screen door, she said, “Text me every morning and night you are on the road. And give Sue a big hug from me!”

One Last Look

With the truck packed, we could have jumped in and started our journey. We were drawn to the high rock behind the house, dubbed La Garita Rock by the locals.

Larry said, “Let’s make one more trip up there, Mom.”

La Garita - Lookout Rock — La Garita – Lookout Rock

I found an old cane to steady myself as I carefully placed my hiking boots amongst the prickly pear and hedgehog cactus with their bright orange-red blossoms opening in the waning light. Working slowly toward the summit, we turned and surveyed the view. The northern section of the San Luis Valley laid out before us, the Great Sand Dunes clearly seen 60 miles to the east at the base of the snow-capped Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Just below us to the left stood the house my parents lived in during their retirement of 30 years. Moving toward the right I saw the historic church just outside the gate to my parent’s property, Capilla San Juan Bautista. The new red metal roof in sharp contrast to the white stucco on the thick adobe walls. Just beyond, the metal gate of the Carnero Creek Cemetery with scores of white crosses within.

The place will pass from the Anderson’s to the next family, but the memories and friends we’ve made will always live in our hearts. I know I’ll return soon…