I was pushing my two elementary-school-aged boys through their bedtime routine. “Hurry up! Shar is coming over to discuss a retreat we need to plan. There won’t be time for a story tonight, but let’s say prayers together and do back rubs.”
Then the phone rang-and changed not only the course of the evening but the events of several weeks to follow.
“Cinda, this is Dr. Steele. I’m in the emergency room at Grossmont Hospital with Keith and Judy Meeker. Their son, Jarrett, hanged himself on a back-yard rope swing this afternoon. He’s been pronounced dead. They asked that you or your husband be here.”
My husband, Steve, another pastor at our church, had already left for an evening meeting. I was searching my memory for a picture of the Meeker family. I came up blank. Then I remembered that last weekend Jarrett and his dad had been with the males in my family on a fishing trip with the boys’ choir.
After clarifying where to meet the parents, I told the doctor I would be there as soon as I could find care for my boys. I shared the news with my children as gently as possible and greeted my friend Shar as the “angel” God had provided to care for them that evening.
At the hospital, I got the story: Jarrett had come home from choir practice and was playing in the back yard while his sister napped. His mom had asked him to stop throwing rocks, and he began to swing on a nylon rope suspended from a eucalyptus tree. The rope was knotted at the bottom for a foothold, but a section above the knot was unwoven and created a loop. Judy went into the house to answer the phone and then returned outside to continue her yardwork. It was then that she felt the silence.
Jarrett’s lifeless body was hanging from the loop in the rope. She pulled him out, ran into the house, and phoned for help. She continued her efforts to revive him, carrying her son to the front yard so the paramedics could quickly find them. But it was too late. Despite lengthy procedures in the ambulance and at the trauma ward, there was nothing to be done.
Jarrett’s death was accidental, though no one knew exactly how his slender body had slipped through the rope swing.
Much has been written about helping people through the loss of an infant, but little about the loss of an older child. This raises unique dynamics and requires careful responses, as I learned by experience in those next few turbulent days. Here are the lessons I learned along the way.
Helping the Parents
The first task is ministering to the parents. This means several things.
Encouraging them to talk about the child. The hospital’s “scream room” or “cry room” was ours alone that night. The stunned parents sat together on a couch, their 8-year-old son’s body on a gurney in another room. We talked about the recent fishing trip, about Jarrett’s gregarious, friendly style with other children, his learning disabilities that were improving, his love for God’s creation, and his relationship with his 5-year-old sister, Jennifer.
I didn’t press for details of the accident, because I knew the deputy coroner would soon come for a complete report. I would be able to listen in on that.
Encouraging them to spend time with the body. We went into the trauma room where Jarrett’s still, blanket-covered body now lay. He looked like a sleeping child. I encouraged the parents to stroke his face and hair. Like any caring parent, his mother commented on his dirty socks.
The grandparents and an aunt and uncle arrived. Soon I was in a corner with my arms around Jarrett’s father, a usually cool lawyer who now found himself sobbing about his lost son. At this point, ministry entailed providing tissues and a shoulder to cry on, and saying quietly, “It is good to cry,” while we shed tears together.
Taking time to discuss burial arrangements. After a while, we discussed the decisions they now faced. Should Jarrett’s body be cremated or buried? This was a crucial decision, calling for mutual agreement. When they decided on burial, I encouraged them to find appropriate ways to involve their daughter in the decisions so she would not feel left out or abandoned during the next few days. They decided to include her in the trip to the cemetery to choose a plot.
Discussing memorial funds and gifts. I brought up the topic of memorial gifts during that first evening at the hospital. To some people this might have seemed premature, but it was fortunate that we talked about it that night. Media attention the next day provided a healthy opportunity for these parents to make a positive response in the midst of a tragedy.
Because we had discussed some available options, they had established a special fund by then, using the Deacon’s Fund in the church as a collection point. The donations would be used to finance a week of “zoo school” at the San Diego Zoo for needy children. They had chosen an experience Jarrett had enjoyed, and opened it up to other children.
Pastoral ministry in this crisis also included accompanying the family through the next painful stage-returning to the scene of the accident, their home.
By now my husband had arrived at the hospital to finish the evening with them. We exchanged a few words of information in the hall and went back into the conference room for prayer together. I left the Meekers after offering to return in the morning to help share the news with Jennifer, who was staying with friends that evening. They were visibly relieved and indicated this was one of the biggest and most troubling tasks on their minds.
Discussing available support groups. Later on, parents will need to know about support groups for families who have experienced the death of a child. Some in our area include Empty Cradle (for families who have lost a child under 2 years of age) and Compassionate Friends (for any parent whose child has died). In addition, local hospitals often offer seminars on grief, which could also prove helpful to families in the months following a child’s death. Groups of this type broaden the number of people with whom they can feel a kinship.
The Meekers found the support they needed within the congregation. Judy’s statement, “People in the church praying for me has been the only thing that keeps me going,” is a testament to the love and care of the whole people of God in the face of crisis.
Helping Siblings and Friends
We also have a role in helping brothers, sisters, and young friends deal with their loss.
Avoid misleading terms. I learned to be factual and honest. While in the hospital’s conference room that first terrible night, we touched on how and when to tell Jarrett’s sister and cousin. We discussed language and how using metaphors about “sleep” and “God needing Jarrett” can be destructive and frightening to children. Since children are literal thinkers, these terms could cause them to become afraid of going to sleep or resenting God for “taking” someone they love.
In the morning I notified Jarrett’s school principal. We discussed the exact details of the accident so she could share the news factually with the school counselor, teachers, and students. I suggested she avoid using the words hanging or hanged himself since my older son’s question had been, “Did he do it on purpose?”
By using “accidentally strangled,” the counselor could rule out suicide in the minds of Jarrett’s classmates. A visit to the school later in the day reassured us about the sensitivity with which the staff dealt with Jarrett’s friends. I assured the principal that the memorial service would be appropriate for children and that any parents who inquired should know their children were welcome to attend.
Choose the discussion site carefully. As promised, I called on the Meekers that first morning to be there when they told Jenny their sad news. Cradled in her parents’ laps, she alternated between tears and amazingly perceptive observations. She said, “I wish I could just wake up and this would all be a bad dream.” When we talked about it being an accident and that accidents sometimes happen even to children, she remarked, “Jarrett never got to grow old and be a grandpa.”
Again we shared tears, tissues, and prayers. While we chose Jenny’s bedroom for this conversation for the sake of privacy, I now consider that a mistake. Her subsequent unpleasant dreams about things on the walls and dressers might have been because we shared such traumatic news in a place she called her own.
Many books help explain the concept of death to children. (A section from Mister Rogers Talks with Parents by Fred Rogers, which I brought for the Meekers, proved to be very helpful.) Most agree that a 5-year-old has a limited concept of the finality of death. This was not a problem with Jenny, as evidenced in her statements about her brother. We talked about Jarrett’s body still being at the hospital, but that it would be buried in the coming days. (While not the case in this situation, some children take discussion of “bodies” to mean that the head is not included. Again, it helps to remember how literal children are in their understanding.)
Assure children that a full range of emotions is normal. It’s okay to cry-or to laugh. Children in a grieving family need to be assured that they can still express a full range of feelings even though many sad people surround them.
I told Jenny that in the next few days she would want to cry sometimes, and other times to laugh and play even when grownups were very sad. Jenny later told her mother that “Pastor Gorman said I could laugh and play or be quiet and show sadness and tears, and it was all okay.”
Include children in the funeral and memorial service. The death of a child also involves ministering to friends and their families. I found myself spending a great deal of time on the phone with other mothers who were suddenly facing the mortality of their own children.
One way of reaching out to them was scheduling a specific time to be available at the mortuary. The funeral home provided a filmstrip on questions that naturally curious children will ask, such as, “How do they dig a grave?” After viewing the filmstrip with several children, my husband and I added thoughts about what we as Christians believe about resurrection. Parents seemed relieved to have assistance explaining the difficult topic of death.
Many adults are uncomfortable with exposing their children to death except the fictional (and often violent) forms of death on TV. Our experiences of involving children in such settings, however, have been positive.
Jenny’s parents and I planned the memorial service the morning after the accident. We scheduled it for a time that could include classmates and teachers. We decided to use taped music of the boys’ choir Jarrett had been in. I would give a children’s sermon, and friends would be invited to share some good memories of Jarrett. In addition, Jarrett’s baseball team would take up a collection toward the memorial fund.
For the children’s sermon, I used toy caterpillars that unzipped into butterflies. I made up a story of two caterpillars discussing what it would be like to fly. One then spun a cocoon (a paper bag) and came out a butterfly. He couldn’t come back and tell his friend what flying was like. It was beyond any description a crawling caterpillar would understand.
“Just so,” I pointed out, “Jarrett can’t come back to tell us what it’s like where he is now. But we know it’s a wonderful, happy place.”
Keith and Judy prepared a display of Jarrett’s models and baseball cards for the reception following the memorial service. This gave them some tangible way to share their son with their friends and to remember his many interests.
Schedule follow-up time. Pastoral follow-up after the service included a stop-by visit over coffee in the back yard. The eucalyptus tree in the back yard had already been removed, and they commented on the wonderful view they didn’t know they had been missing. (Some experts would have suggested this was a premature action of denial, but it was a decision the family could make and take action on.)
When a child dies we grieve over not only the loss of that child, but also the loss of the future we had anticipated for the child. Our dreams are shattered, and the memory bank is more limited. Most of the memories center around holidays and particular sports, friends, and sites. For this reason I found it important to make follow-up contact with these parents around the holidays we associate with children-Halloween, Christmas, and Jarrett’s birthday. I noted these dates and the anniversary of his death on my calendar.
Christmas was the most difficult holiday, and the Meekers chose to change the site to a mountain cabin and to keep the holiday rather low-key.
Looking back, I would be more assertive about follow-up than I was. Distance made dropping by difficult, but I wish I’d have done it on a regular basis and with more pointed questions. Not until six months later was I able to encourage more formal counseling.
The divorce rate for parents who experience the death of a child is high, so being aware of family dynamics is very important. While Jarrett’s death didn’t threaten this couple’s marriage, it did raise other issues from their extended family.
Judy has said repeatedly that she had too little time alone with Jarrett at the funeral home. Now I would suggest that visitation by family and friends be scheduled at a time other than when the parents go to the funeral home. That way there would be no scheduled end to the time they have to grieve with the body. Our institutions dealing with death, such as hospitals and funeral homes, have robbed families of the chores that used to be theirs in preparing bodies and graves. The least we can do is provide appropriate time for parents to be with their dead child.
Helping Yourself
Pastors in this kind of crisis initially will devote a great deal of time to the family in need. But we must be aware of our own personal and family needs. By the third day, I was exhausted from my own lack of sleep and took my first ever sleeping pill. I also needed to be attuned to the feelings of my two sons, so I sent notes to their schoolteachers about their friend’s death.
I depended on the prayers of our congregation. While I have never felt it inappropriate to cry at a memorial service, I feared that if I cried at this one I’d be unable to regain control. So I asked people to pray for my husband and me to get through the service. This wasn’t from a sense of steely pride, but because I had cried enough by then and it wouldn’t be helpful to those attending. I’m sure that our ability to remain composed was due to God’s help.
I was blessed to have a partner in the ministry during this crisis. I would encourage any pastor facing a tragedy that impacts not only a family but a community to find a partner to share the load. A spouse, a colleague, or a small-group member can be an essential support in a journey the pastor should not have to walk alone.
The Meekers were not members of our congregation, though Judy attended regularly. No vows of loyalty “qualify” a family for the intensity of pastoral presence they need in those difficult days. The Meekers have been carried along by the prayers and fellowship of a concerned congregation and plan to join during the next class. Their presence among us has been a deeply moving testimony to their faith since Jarrett’s death.
I wouldn’t want to rerun those wrenching days, but they focused my perspective on ministry and sharpened my skills in grief counseling. And they showed me how God and his people can be faithful to those who mourn.
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