******************
We were met at the door by the wife of the deceased who, after
making sure her dogs were in another room, invited us into the front room where
she took her seat.
Officer #1 proceeded to inform her of her husband’s
death. Her response was one of shock,
denial, anger, grief, bewilderment, etc.
I knelt down beside her, introduced myself, and shared how sorry I was
for her loss while I gently took her hand.
I remained there while she continued to convey her shock and
bewilderment. I offered to pray. She accepted.
We prayed and ended with the Lord’s Prayer.
At this point she had calmed down and said she needed to
contact her son who was downtown. I
offered to do that for her. She found
his number on her phone, which I took and went outside to use due to the noise
of the barking dogs. When her son
answered, I introduced myself and my role as a CFPD Chaplain. I told him that I and the officers were at
his mother’s home and why we were there. I expressed my condolences to him
saying that his mother asked that I contact him to come to the house
immediately.
Within minutes the deceased’s son arrived accompanied by his
fiancée. Officer #1 and I followed
him to the kitchen upon his request. He
asked for details and received from Officer #1 the contact information for
the neighboring county investigating officer.
While he contacted the investigator we assisted the son’s fiancée with
contacting the deceased’s daughter so that she could also come to the house
immediately.
Seeming to have reached a point of emotional equilibrium, I
offered to remain with them until the daughter arrived. Officer #2 had given the wife his contact
information and also offered to stay if they desired. They were comfortable with the officers
leaving. I thanked the officers. They asked if I was good with them
leaving. I said I was. I remained until the daughter arrived.
While we waited for the daughter’s arrival, I sat with the
wife and her son’s fiancée making some small talk. I asked if they had a church home or a pastor
or priest I could contact. They did
not. Upon the daughter’s arrival I offered
my assistance while they informed her of the tragedy. I remained a few minutes longer to assess the
emotional climate. I did not want to
leave until they all seemed to have their wits about them and knew the next
steps they were going to take. I left
them my contact information, asked if there was anything else I could do for
them, affirmed that they were in my prayers and then took my leave. It was around 9:50 a.m. when I left.
******************
I am struck by how short our visit with this household was -- less than 50 minutes. The intensity of the emotional encounter with the woman who had been married to the deceased for 42 years, and then again with the son and then the daughter, was enough to make it seem like we had been there significantly longer.
It's an interesting roll that we play as chaplains. A primary reason for beginning this ministry was so the police could be more efficient with doing what they need to do without the distraction of having to offer emotional care to the family. They get my compliments for recognizing how important having someone there to be attentive to the survivors is. As police, they could not effectively investigate while simultaneously field questions, offer compassion, address spiritual/emotional trauma, etc. Time in and time out we chaplains receive the appreciation of the police for being there in ways they were unable to be. This presence is growing to include death notifications as well. I think that as this evolves, we are collectively discovering intangible benefits for all parties beyond simply being a buffer between the police and those they serve.
This is how my day began. On a lighter note, balancing out the weightiness of then morning, I ran an errand down to Gordy's Grocery store to get ice cream, dish washer detergent, and wine (okay, not so much an important errand, I guess). I parked by the liquor store entrance, so I checked out with all my stuff at that register. The kind lady behind the counter eyed me suspiciously, verbally wondering if I needed to be carded. Before she could finish, I nicely commented that I was 51 and it shouldn't be a problem. I showed her my ID and we agreed that she must have been having a long day. I chalk it up to wearing a baseball cap and carrying 60 more pounds than I should be. I have often told folks who get my age wrong that the extra weight fills in the wrinkles.
I really should get down to a healthier weight and test out that theory.
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