My youngest daughter called me this morning. She had just returned home to her apartment from work. She works the overnight shift as an operator/dispatcher for an emergency assistance service.
As she was preparing to end her shift, her phone rang. She decided to go ahead and answer it as her replacement needed just a few more moments to ready herself, before sliding into the seat to take over. The call turned out to be particularly difficult.
An elderly gentleman was asking for help on the other end of the line. His wife was not breathing, her skin was cold, and there was no pulse. Emergency services were dispatched, however, the situation was hopeless. His wife’s life had escaped her and would not return. He was devastated.
As part of my daughter’s duties, she is obligated to notify certain other persons attached to her client’s file. The persons listed to notify were the couple’s adult children. My daughter was now faced with the daunting tasks of waking a number of unsuspecting adults and notifying them that an emergency had occurred with negative results at their parent’s home. Upon notification, each of the adult children pressed for additional information. My sweet daughter was forced to inform them of their mother’s death.
Tired, stressed, and heartbroken, my darling girl called me this morning for comfort. It is never an easy task to notify a family member of a death, but it is especially difficult to do such a task over the phone. Such notifications should be done in person so that physical and emotional support may be offered.
It was a difficult morning for my daughter, but she learned important things about herself. She learned that she has the spiritual strength to comfort those who are brokenhearted. She also learned that she can muster up the courage to deliver the worst news known to families with kindness and in a way that gently helps them to accept the reality of loss. These are things that I already knew about her, but today she learned them about herself.
I am proud of my daughter. I am thankful that she took this difficult call and that she was able to help a husband through his worst moment in life. I am grateful that she was able to assist his children in understanding their loss, and that she was able to help them realize that they must prepare themselves to help their father recover from his profound loss.
My daughter is a great woman. She is an asset to her company, and she was a comfort to a grieving family this morning. Currently, she is away at college and I miss her every moment of every day. I love her so very much, and I am so immensely proud of her. I shall visit her soon because I have not seen her for far too long.
I hope that if you have children that you will reach out to them and let them know how much they mean to you. I hope that you will express your abiding love to them and tell them that nothing is more precious than their sweet souls. After all, today could be your last day of breath, your last opportunity to express your love, or your last moment to hear their musical voices. Grab every chance you have before it slips away because death comes like a thief in the night.
Death is sad. People say they want a “Celebration of Life.” That’s all well and good, but I’m telling you right now, from my perspective, those who love you the most, whose lives will forever be changed and left with a gaping hole of loneliness once you’re gone, won’t be singing songs of celebration; they’ll be crying uncontrollable heartfelt sorrow. Do them and yourself a favor; reach out, and love them while you can. Not only will your life be improved today, but theirs will be fortified for the times when they’ll need it most – the time that comes to all of us, the time when we must leave those we love behind, that time which we call death.
My youngest daughter called me this morning. She had just returned home from work. She is an operator/dispatcher for an emergency assistance service. Her final call was an elderly gentleman begging for his wife’s life. With sobs of sorrow and a gaping, painful wound to his soul, he realized she was already gone, she was dead.
My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, and co-founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award.
It is my life’s work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.
For additional encouragement, read other articles or watch video “Grief Briefs,” please go to my website at https://www.queencityfuneralhome.com/pushing-up-daisies-blog.
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