Death of a Spouse

Because my grief seems quiet and apart,
Think not for such a reason it is less.
True sorrow makes a silence in the heart,
Joy has its friends, but grief its loneliness.
Robert Nathan

Till death do us part": When the wedding vows are spoken, it might as well read "forever," because death seems but a remote possibility for the young. But forever eventually comes, and when it does, the tight knot tied at the wedding is severed, leaving frayed ends in need of binding.

Gone is the dear companion, the keeper of books, the vacation partner, the purchaser of groceries, the maker of dinner, or the fixer of cars. Gone is the one who shares sunsets or midnight diaperings or pet jokes or holiday traditions. Gone. In one final moment, it's all gone, to be replaced by grief, a miserable substitute.

The First Moments

There is no good way to tell someone a spouse has died. Police dread death notices. Doctors hate announcing a failure. Friends feel incapable. That's why the chore often falls on pastors, who dislike it no less than anyone else but have the heart and will to do it anyway.

Several years ago the mayor of Greenwood, Indiana, a committed member of Community Church, volunteered to fly three missionaries to Chicago in his private plane. At the airstrip he slipped on the tarmac and fell into the path of the propeller. He was killed instantly. Charles Lake, his pastor, was delegated to notify the family.

"In death notices," he says, "I've found it's good to be direct and clear, as well as caring and concerned. I say something like, 'I'm here because your husband has been involved in an accident.' Not mentioning death in the first sentence seems to cushion the blow and allow a split second to prepare. Normally the wife will ask, 'How is he?' suspecting my presence is indicative of the possibility of death. Then I say, 'I'm sorry, but he is dead.'

"I know the next question. Invariably spouses ask, 'Are you sure? It can't be!' The suddenness makes them incredulous. That's why it's necessary to tell them the simple but brutal fact that a loved one is dead. It helps when you have accurate information. Dazed as people become, they still want to know the facts. And the more I can tell them, the better I can help them cope with that first terrible surge of shock and denial.

"Usually people don't know what to do next. This isn't an everyday occurrence for them. They're stunned. At that point I try to help them think clearly, because normally they can't do that alone. Once they have the basic facts, they have a lot of decisions to begin making. As a somewhat detached 'outsider,' I can bring clarity of thought."

Wayne Willis, who works as chaplain at Louisville's Kosair Children's Hospital, mentions that one of the components of grief is often somatic distress: "I've seen people faint, vomit, get splitting headaches, or start hyperventilating upon hearing of a death. Their bodies respond to the shock right along with their emotions. We give hyperventilating people a paper bag to breathe into. When people faint, we lower them to the floor, check pulse and breathing, put something under their head, perhaps cool their brow, and then allow them the few moments to be out cold. Why revive them to the shock? It's merciful to let them stay out.

"We respect physical denial as one way of coping. If someone gets stuck in denial, it becomes harmful, but as an initial response, it's probably necessary."

Willis subscribes to a "let them do what they need to do as long as they aren't hurting anybody" theory of crisis care. That may mean providing quiet presence to a hysterical person or trailing a "bolter." "Some people, when they hear the news of a loved one's death, want to run," Willis advises. "They suddenly feel as constricted in the hospital space as they do in their range of 'solutions' for the death. They need space; they just want to get away from the crowd. I let them go, but I go with them, staying a discreet distance away. These people may need protection, a kind of shepherding, but that can be done by watching them and leaving them alone. I figure I can allow for a little temporary psychosis if it's a way to cope."

When people start screaming or running or fainting or sobbing uncontrollably, it's uncomfortable. That's okay, Willis reminds us. Eventually people will calm down. Right now they probably need the response they have chosen. And a lack of response is likely more harmful in the long run. John Milam, my father-in-law, has a saying that puts this into perspective: "It's not normal to act normal in an abnormal situation."

The First Days

The immediate concerns of notification and emotional first aid give way to helping with plans and memorial services and decisions. For the bereaved, life seems a blur of forms to fill out, major decisions to make, and expenses that mount, all when there is little inclination or ability to cope with such an onslaught. Marilyn Willett Heavilin, in December's Song, lists a number of activities others can do to help the bereaved:

— Call relatives

— Contact the family attorney

— Locate any existing will

— Call insurance companies

— Locate insurance policies and bank accounts

— Check on existing retirement funds

— Notify Social Security

— Help write the obituary

— Help plan the funeral

— Go with the bereaved to the mortuary and cemetery

— Provide a guest book to use at the bereaved's home

— Find people to provide family meals

— Clean the house

— Mow the lawn

— Grocery shop

— Do minor house and car repairs

— Have someone stay at the home during the funeral

— Have someone record the food and flowers brought to the home

Many of these activities can be covered by friends, family, or members of the church. But pastors often want to be involved in several. Pastor Gary Gulbranson of Glen Ellyn (Illinois) Bible Church takes an active role when he's called into a death situation.

"I try to get to the family as quickly as I can when I hear of a death," Gulbranson says, "and once there, I try to pick up the clues about how I'm needed. It's not my purpose to step in and attempt to control the situation, but to let the emotional state of the spouse dictate my response. Some people need to be taken by the hand and walked through every minute detail. Others seem more in charge and just want someone to accompany them.

"Often I ask if they want me to contact the funeral home. I set up the meeting with the funeral director, and I try to be there unless the spouse objects. The spouse has to make some big decisions about disposition of the body, the expenses of casket and services, and the funeral service. I like to offer my help in putting those decisions in Christian perspective.

"In working with the family, I often hear stories and details about the deceased family member that I can use at the funeral. Sometimes they need help to restructure their memories, so I ask questions to jog their thoughts."

Many pastors sit down with the family during the first couple of days and get them to reminisce about the deceased member: where the person grew up, how the couple met, where they've lived, special occasions for them, interests and talents of the deceased, interesting family experiences, religious ties, and occasions of Christian significance.

This begins to draw the family together as they remember good times and bad. Sometimes they laugh at a humorous incident. Often tears flow sporadically. People remind each other of cherished times, and one person's memory fills in where another's trails off. The surviving spouse can voice memories and thoughts that will be precious to the children and grandchildren. The whole process can be wonderfully therapeutic, leading toward good grief.

Second, this gives the pastor great material to personalize a memorial service. Many times the pastor, of all those at the funeral, will know the deceased least, and yet he or she is called upon to speak about this near stranger. This time of family reminiscing opens windows into family life and the character and interests of the deceased.

On some occasions the death crisis is complicated by a sharp family disagreement. With nerves on edge anyway, disputes can be unpleasant. "When a family starts fighting — usually over little things — I jump in as an aggressive peacemaker," says Gulbranson. "Sometimes all that's needed is taking charge and saying to the spouse, 'You're the husband (or wife), what do you want?'" Decisions ought to be made by those closest to the deceased. Donnybrooks over items such as costs, who speaks at the funeral, or what kind of casket to buy ought not to be allowed to further disquiet the bereaved spouse or family.

As in any death situation, pastors often will be asked difficult questions: Where was God when my wife was suffering so? With all the bad folks running around, why was my husband the one who died? Why is God silent when I need him? These are difficult at any time, but combined with bitterness or deep emotion, they are all the harder to field.

Quick, glib answers, even when theologically accurate, often alienate the grieving spouse. As Marilyn Heavilin says, "Few of us are looking for a quick fix. It doesn't take us long to realize that our problem can't be taken care of quickly, and we don't really expect anyone to fix it. What we do need is knowledgeable people around us who will listen and at least discuss our questions with us."

Joseph Bayly experienced the death of three of his children. Listen to what he wrote in The Last Thing We Talk About concerning two people who visited him: "I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God's dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He talked constantly; he said things I know are true. I was unmoved, except to wish he'd go away. He finally did. Another came and sat beside me. He didn't ask leading questions. He just sat beside me for an hour and more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go."

Satisfactory answers to the inevitable questions of death deal more with emotion than substance. Some questions are merely informational: What's heaven like? Why have a funeral? Is it okay to cry? They can be answered briefly and clearly. But no one can adequately answer why a young father dies in an automobile accident that wasn't his fault. When the question is asked by his widow, she needs an arm around her shoulder more than a treatise on the sovereignty of God.

"I treat such questions as rhetorical statements flung into space for the emotional release, not as tests of my theology," one pastor says. "The questioner really needs to hear that God is still there, he does yet care, and, no, we don't really know why things like this happen, but we're sure God feels this suffering as much as we do." Such a response doesn't belittle the deep questioning of a broken heart; it affirms it's not bad to ask such questions and comforts the questioner.

In these first days of grief, a pastor can help the widow or widower by serving as an enhanced mirror, reflecting the person's emotions and thoughts with greater clarity and understanding. For example, if a widow says, "I don't know what I'm going to live on now that John's gone," one might reply, "It must feel scary suddenly to have the responsibility for all the bookkeeping when you haven't had it for forty-five years. I think I'd want to ask for some help from a good accountant. We have a couple in the church that I could recommend." Her fuzzy statement of fear is thus heard, analyzed, and echoed back to her in enhanced form, legitimating her anxiety and giving her something to do should she want the help.

"Oh, don't worry. You've got plenty of money!" wouldn't give the same relief. It makes her apprehension sound unwarranted and silly, and it gives her no method to relieve it.

A way to help people voice their feelings is offered by David Seamands. "In situations like these, I often pray using 'we' to express feelings and thoughts the person may not have dared to express out loud for fear they will sound blasphemous. I might pray, 'Lord, we're puzzled by this death, and we wonder sometimes how you fit into it. We know you can do all things, but we wonder why you didn't rescue this loved one. At times it seems unbearable to us, and we even start thinking you don't seem very close when we need you …'

"When I grow bold for them in this kind of questioning prayer, people often will burst into tears where before they remained stone-faced. They don't know such prayer is allowable. It doesn't fit the categories of prayer they've seen before. The honesty before God, spoken by someone who represents God, disarms them. Finally they let down and allow their honest emotions and thoughts to show."

By giving grieving spouses a clear picture of what they are feeling, by telling them it's okay to feel that way, by gently pointing to options they can choose, pastors help the bereaved get through those first few days of grief.

The First Months

"Society can be fairly merciless with a grieving person," Chaplain Wayne Willis sighs. "People are given about two weeks, and then they're expected to resume normal activities as if nothing had happened. If they don't get over it soon, some begin to worry about a nervous breakdown or suicide. Actually it is more like months or even years before many people recover from grief sufficiently even to approach normality."

Many widowed people say the hardest grieving comes after the funeral, after relatives and friends have gone home, after the flowers have wilted and the cards have quit arriving — right when the dreadful drudgery of life without a partner really sinks in. Earlier there was shock, and then a flurry of support. Finally there is only the grinding reality of loss, and grief becomes overwhelming. That easily becomes the crisis within a crisis.

At Grace Lutheran Church in Oconto Falls, Wisconsin, Pastor Kevin Ruffcorn has initiated a program of grief aftercare. It begins at the funeral service, where he lets the family know that likely it will take a year or more to work through their grief. "Occasionally family members make statements like, 'As soon as this funeral's over, we can get on with life,'" Ruffcorn comments. "I have to tell them gently that death affects us longer than a few short days, and if in a month or two they still aren't handling the death very well, if they break down in tears in the grocery store after hearing a song that reminds them of their loved one, that's perfectly normal for good, strong Christians. They're not going crazy or losing their faith. They are just being human."

His second step is a series of phone calls and visits. He stops by a week after the funeral to talk with the widow or widower. This visit, probably after the reality has hit, provides an opportunity for the bereaved to express a new set of grief questions or to rehash the old ones.

"Many times I hear expressions of loneliness," Ruffcorn elaborates, "unbearable evenings without a husband, lonely meals around a table for one, cold beds, and empty houses. I can't take that away, but my call does allow persons to express the grief and to realize that someone understands what they're going through.

"Occasionally I hear soft voices of denial. Donna shared that she often imagined her husband walking through the kitchen door and greeting her with a kiss, just as he always did. I affirm that such struggles are a normal part of grieving and not a sign they are going crazy. I tell them grief doesn't end at the funeral. Yes, they must get on with life, but they also need to feel the wounds of grief before they can heal."

About two weeks later Ruffcorn either drops by or phones, assuring the spouse that he or she remains in his thoughts and prayers. He wants to stress that he is available as a pastor.

"Often this second visit is the watershed," he writes. "Anger and theological questions often appear. One woman mentioned she was having difficulty praying. She was angry and thought the death unfair. As she shared with me, however, she heard in her own words her blame of God. Using Scripture and counsel, I helped her release her anger and understand her feelings. Her devotional life was renewed."

Ruffcorn tries to make a third visit about three to four months after the funeral. "By this time," he notes, "any significant difficulties in the grief process are apparent. Such things as chronic depression or eating or sleeping disorders are signals of problems that go beyond my pastoral skills into physical and psychological realms. In that case, I encourage the individual to seek additional professional help.

"I can, though, help others such as David, whose fiancée was killed in a freak car accident two months before they were to be married. During one visit, David stated he never would be able to love a person again because of his fear of being hurt by loss. His life reflected this attitude as he became more and more a loner. After hours of conversation, David began to see the difficulties of his fearful coping. He's now making cautious steps toward loving again."

As a further step, Ruffcorn enlists the church secretary to obtain the deceased's birthday and anniversary days and mark them on his calendar. He also notes the anniversary of the death. "I make a note to phone the spouse on those special dates because those days are difficult during grief. A phone call from the pastor, no matter how short, conveys the comforting message that someone understands. Around Thanksgiving and Christmas, I also make an effort to call the families of those who died during the year."

One grieving family member understood well the difficulties of the holiday season. "I would like to ask God to cancel December," she said. "We'll try it again some other year." At these difficult times, pastors want to convey support.

But Ruffcorn doesn't shoulder the entire responsibility for grieving spouses. He pairs each new widow or widower with a member of the congregation who has gone through similar circumstances. He asks these volunteers to visit at least every four to six weeks for a year. Their purpose is to be a friend, a listener. They are encouraged to talk about the dead spouse, especially because many others fastidiously avoid the subject. (Grieving spouses almost always want to talk about their spouse. They don't want life to go on as if their spouse never existed.) Ruffcorn asks the visitors to contact him if anything comes up that he can clarify or if they have concerns about how the spouse is handling grief.

One writer put it this way: "Pain is an acceptable guest, but not a welcome long-term visitor." The pastor's job is to help move it along at the appropriate time.

Kevin Ruffcorn tells of a day when a Bible study had fallen flat, two committees were going in contrary directions, and a few members had called with "nit-picky" criticisms of one of his pet projects. "It was one of those days when I was beginning to wonder, Lord, is it worth it?"

Then the mail arrived. Between frustrations, he tore open a letter and began to read:

Dear Pastor,

Words cannot express my appreciation for your visits. Your presence helped me go through the most difficult struggle I have ever experienced in my life, the death of my husband …

"This letter," Ruffcorn says, "reminded me that ministry was taking place and that ministry does take place whenever love is expressed and the effort is made to share the power of the gospel."

Quickscan DEATH OF A SPOUSE

Immediate concerns:

1.The spouse, if not already notified, needs someone to break the news gently yet clearly.

2.Someone needs to be with the widow or widower. It is never too early for a pastoral call.

3.Help with decisions. In the many that have to be made, your Christian perspective can be useful.

Keep in mind:

1.A newly bereaved person will be in shock. Many manifestations of grief may appear out of control or unseemly. Unless a person is harming someone, however, allow grief to be expressed as it will.

2.Probably the straightest thinker will be you. Help people cope with decisions, plans, and personalities. Take your clues from them as to how much of you they need and want.

3.Angry questions addressed to God are often more felt than meant. The time for orthodox theology will come later. What is needed now is loving care that mirrors God's feelings for the downtrodden. Deal with the emotion, not necessarily the substance, of the questions.

4.Grief takes time to work through. Very likely, things will not be okay in a few weeks or even several months. Gently saying this can give the grieving spouse permission to take time to heal.

5.Perhaps the hardest grief will come more than two weeks after the funeral. Grief aftercare is needed.

Things to do or say:

1.Presence often means more than words. Being there, speaking little, touching as appropriate, and praying are the immediate ways to help.

2.Help the bereaved sort the many decisions. Major decisions of finances and lifestyle ought to be postponed. Other decisions, such as burial or funeral arrangements, need immediate thought.

3.Communicate God's care through your care. We cannot always fathom the mind of God, but we can certainly experience the compassion of God's people. In Jesus Christ, God himself knows loss: that's a powerful message.

4.Talk about the deceased. Most people won't. Give the family opportunities to remember.

5.Mobilize the people of the church to share the burden of the bereaved. Visitors (over a period of at least a year), food, household chores, someone to watch the home during the funeral — all are ways to help.

Things not to do or say:

1.Do not stifle the emotions of grief. They need to come out in appropriate ways.

2.Do not give glib answers to the difficult questions of death and loss. Too many words are more harmful than too few.

3.Do not let the funeral be the end of bereavement care.

4.Do not assume a stoic disposition means grief is handled. The lack of emotion can signal overcompensation or denial of grief.

For further study:

Bayly, Joseph. The Last Thing We Talk About. Elgin, Ill.: David C. Cook Publishing Co., 1973.

Colgrove, Melba, Harold H. Bloomfield, and Peter McWilliams. How to Survive the Loss of a Love. New York: Bantam Books, 1976. (Ignore the plugs for Transcendental Meditation.)

Kübler-Ross, Elisabeth. On Death and Dying. New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1969.

Lewis, C. S. A Grief Observed. New York: Bantam Books, 1976.