Ideas. Lessons Learned, and Occasionally, Opinions
We do a lot of training at Corgenius in choosing appropriate cards and knowing what to write in them, especially when there has been a loss or life-changing transition. Countless times, people have asked me why I don’t just create a line of cards. That’s not something I have time or interest for, but today I offer you the next best thing.
I met Anne Kertz Kernion a couple of years ago and now I buy a majority of my cards from her company, Cards by Anne (www.CardsByAnne.com). These hand-designed cards are thoughtful, beautiful, and high-quality. Most agree with the principles I teach at Corgenius. And they are an incredible bargain at only $1.25 each.
Another benefit - you can now get a condolence card with one of my quotes on the cover. Recently, Anne encouraged me to submit quotes for her consideration in designing cards. She then sent a mailing to her very large database and asked them to vote on a wide range of submitted quotes, promising that the top three vote-getters would be incorporated into cards. One of my quotes won by a landslide. (I even out-ranked Pope Francis! I don't imagine that will happen again!)
Of course, Anne's cards still don't solve the problem of what you will write inside. To learn more about this sometimes thorny issue, consider checking out my book “No Longer Awkward”, which contains over 100 texts that you can modify and use for various purposes.
So when you go to the Cards by Anne web site, you will see my card displayed there. Hopefully there will be more in the future. I encourage you to peruse Anne’s other cards as well. I suspect you’ll find yourself returning there again and again for both personal and professional purposes.
Let me be clear at the outset: it was Terrance's prerogative to make his end-of-life decisions as he saw fit. It was his prerogative to include his wife Amanda in those decisions apparently as co-equal partner during the long final chapter of his life. With that firmly in mind, let's consider what she has to say about that journey.
In this Ted Talk film (“We need a heroic narrative of death”, October 15, 2013), Amanda Bennett is a fine story teller, occasionally poetic in her own voice and concluding with a quote from and for the ages. There are nuggets of utility in here and her final thesis -- there is a way to have a courageous and graceful goodbye -- is imperative to absorb. Her narrative has an almost connect-a-quote corniness about it despite its obviously heartfelt and sincerely sorrowful nature. However, because most of us know that a long and gradual decline is how we will die, Ms. Bennett's notion of "hope” is flawed, despite some utility.
She says "hope is part of our DNA as humans" but inaccurately and unhelpfully conflates acceptance of her husband’s approaching death with "you're prohibiting me from hoping." Her statement, "it's not a bug, it's a feature," is an intellectual sleight of hand that serves no one because she and her husband were, in fact, in profound denial that Terrance would soon die until the final six days of his life.
Again she says, "[I hoped], you might say irrationally, that I could keep him alive forever." I do say "irrationally" because hoping for what one can reasonably know is impossible is denial. That circle can't be squared. Although Bennett insists she was “redefining hope", in reality she kept extending a singular definition of hope (in this case a cure) until it was long-past possible. There is nothing in her narrative to suggest she was "redefining" hope.
She continues by asserting that "what the experts call denial I call hope." False. Once again intellectual and emotional sleight of hand. "Redefining hope" actually means that hope exists until we take our last breath or until our loved one takes her last breath. But, and this is the necessary and essential notion, hope changes. Initially we hope for a cure. Then, when we know that a cure is impossible, we hope to live until our daughter's wedding or our trip to Norway is complete or we finish painting the boat, or . Then, when that hope is fulfilled, or becomes impossible to realize, our hopes change again, until the final hope is to die in the presence of our most treasured loved ones in peace and in as little pain as possible.
That is what redefining hope looks like.
Here is one more example of the sleight of hand she practiced on herself: She claims "our system isn't built to accommodate it [hope and a graceful goodbye]." Actually, there were systemic accommodations available for Terrance and Amanda and they proactively chose to reject the most obvious one, the services of hospice. That's a textbook, Brittanica-grade example of denial.
Amanda and Terrance's correct response to his oncologist's assertion that "better days are ahead" was "I'll discuss that with my rabbi or priest or spiritual leader. As for you, medical profession, tell me the truth, please. Do so with warmth, compassion, humility, and sorrow for me and what you cannot achieve, but just do it."
Indicting an entire group of people is seldom efficacious and never fair but for expediency I do so here: The medical profession is flagrantly wrong to use phrases like "there's nothing more we can do for you” (the dying person) because there is always more we can do for a dying person. It may be true that there is nothing we can medically do but there is always something we can do to achieve Ms. Bennett's goal for each of us "… bid her farewell the Alexandria you are losing."
The holiday season is laced with minefields for grieving people, especially if they are facing the first holiday season without loved one. Homes get decorated with sentimental ornaments, candles, and trimmings. Songs carry unbidden emotions. There are countless gatherings of friends and family where the empty chair is all too evident. And because expectations for joy and cheer are so high, these mourners often feel lost, alone, and sad. Your employees, clients, and associates will never forget it if you reach out compassionately during this time, letting them know you understand how hard it is.
Remember not to write cards and notes wishing a “Happy” or “Merry” holiday. Instead, choose texts that wish peace or hope. Then include a hand-written message acknowledging their reality. Here is one possibility: “Wishing you Happy Holidays at a time like this seems hollow. Instead, I wish you peace. I wish you healing. I wish you hope.”
Or: “During this holiday time, I wish you moments of lightness in the midst of the pain. I wish you companionship of beloved people in the midst of the loneliness. I wish you healing as you learn to survive these days. Most of all, I wish you peace.”
Or: “You may find that few people understand what you experience during this holiday season. Try to be patient with yourself and others, as you find your way through the ups and downs it will surely bring. In the meantime, do what seems right to you and take care of yourself. Concentrate on what is most important, and know that I am here for you.”
You may also wish to give or recommend these helpful books:
You may wish to give one or both books to your grieving employees, clients, or associates. These books are small, easy to navigate, cost less than $15 each. With the different formats, the recipients and everyone in their families will be able to find understanding, consolation, and practical help in these pages.
It’s almost time to send out holiday greetings to your clients. Yet what if your client’s family member died this year? If you send them a card wishing "Happy Holidays", then at best you tell them you treat your clients generically, sending the same card regardless. At worst, it lets them know you don’t understand at all and, like the rest of society, expect them to paste on a smiley-face and “be happy for the sake of the season”. In either case, the card heads straight to the trash, never to be remembered.
It is never a good idea to wish “Happy Holidays” to people going through the toughest time of their lives. Instead, you can offer authenticity and genuine comfort, distinguishing yourself from everyone else and helping your client at the same time. The first step is to choose a card that does not say Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc. Choose one that either has no words or that wishes peace or hope. Then include a hand-written note inside and consider including a gift card for a cup of coffee, a movie, a massage, or something else comforting.
Here are some possibilities: