The Waiting Game

 An hour is a long time to wait.

An hour of uncertainty is longer still.

Pilots know how many hours a flight takes; conductors how long the trip.  Students know when class is over.  Doubtful hours are different.

Childbirth is counted in moans and minutes; newborns take their time.  A surgeon needs time, but surgery takes time.  Paper cuts stop bleeding when they stop bleeding. Corporal concerns are uncertain.

"How long do we have to wait?"

"They said they'll be here in about an hour."

Waiting with the living, for the removal of the dead, is uncertain.  Grief is as the wind: invisible and unpredictable.  Victim Advocates, however, are asked to be visible and responsive.  

Providing comfort and direction, Victim Services Teams are in place to help families cope with the loss of a loved one, assist a victim of a crime, or provide solutions to those in time of need...Victim Services advocates are caring, compassionate volunteers who are recruited from the community. Representing a broad cross-section of the population, they often have experienced their own personal tragedy and want to help others. (https://www.misheriff.org/programs/victim-services/)

 Working with the dead includes waiting with the living. A Medical Examiner Investigator (MEI) may take an hour to arrive; a funeral home takes another hour. Victim Advocates wait with survivors. 

What do you talk about for an hour in a grieving house of strangers?

"My name is Alex and I'm serving as a victim advocate.  We walk alongside people on the worst days of their lives.  Your loved one's death has brought us together today.  Is helping you today, OK?"

A family may say, "No, we don't want anyone in the room.  Get out of here!"  Exiting is also a form of service.  Officers, waiting with the body, may have heard the same thing, but officers stay.  "We want to be alone," falls on deaf law enforcement ears, often frustrating survivors. 

Exiting, when told, grants survivors a bit of control in an out of control situation.  Cops stay, no matter what the family says, until the MEI arrives.  An MEI ignores "We want to be alone," while examining and asking follow-up questions.  An advocate, however, can be kicked around a bit.  When we're out of control, we crave control.

Advocates, asked to leave, exit until an opportunity to return arises.  Perhaps ice water or wet wipes are needed.  Silent, servile re-entries include bringing tissue, food or coffee.  Picking up trash or offering to preoccupy despondent children can get an advocate back into a room.  Service is a key that opens slammed doors.

A helpful re-entry, and quiet occupancy, rarely draws more ire.  Yes, the advocate may have been told to, "Get the 4U*K out!!" but kindness is currency.  Being compassionate, with a cussing still echoing, is a part of the advocate's work.   Re-entry also reinforces that the advocate is the only person willing to do what survivors command.  Permission to stay is often granted. 

"Thank you letting me help.  What is your loved one's name?"

"His name is Eric.*"

"For someone just getting to know Eric today, how would you describe him?"

An open-ended question often changes the room.  Sometimes, all the survivors' eyes fall on the one person able to answer.  Often there's a pregnant pause before laughter, sobs or nodding heads agree with the description.  If family or friends answer, a bit of the ice that forms, when a stranger enters, breaks.  Another question sometimes breaks more ice.

"You describe Eric as a people person.  When did you find out he could work a room?"

"One time we were at a wedding and..."

When stories start, hours shorten.  Survivors take turns, listening closely and correcting any omissions.  Sharing with a stranger, tales known by heart, is a form of generosity.  A listener's genuine curiosity can melt minutes into moments.

"All of you know each other, but how are each of you related to Eric?"

If trust is established, answers flow like water.  Half-siblings from second and third marriages emerge; drinking buddies and high school classmates ante up.  Establishing relationships is central to the advocate's work.

While we wait, a family is being prepared for the next set of servants.  Funeral homes will need information.  If the deceased was a veteran, had life insurance or died as the result of a crime, survivors need to be equipped for next steps.  Gleaning nuggets of information, is a tight rope walk.

Too much writing deflates the storytelling intimacy.  Getting lost in the humor or grief and missing helpful details is a hazard.  Grieving family and friends may be dealing with an autopsy, police report, Social Security Administrator or platoon of service providers demanding death certificates (bankers, pharmacists, creditors).  

How may efficient report writing be balanced with genuine compassion?

See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. ~ I Thessalonians 5:15-19

Prayer saturates my calls for service.  While driving to a scene the "will of God in Christ Jesus for [me]" is considered.  In this season of my life, I sense the Holy Spirit calling me to this work.  A team of believing Christians agrees to pray alongside.  Work with survivors pivots from weeping to laughter; from rage to exhaustion; from cursing to apology.  

 The Lord occupies thin places like a house full of the living and the dead.

An hour of storytelling may precede the MEI's arrival.  Another hour to answer, 'What Do I Do Now?' often comes before a fork in the road.  Officials will either order an autopsy or release remains to the funeral home.  Advocates are trained to walk survivors down either path, but a moment comes when the body has to be removed.

Emotions are high and violence is possible.  

Removal determines if the Lord has granted the advocate any favor.

"Thank you for trusting me with Eric's story.  Transport is fifteen minutes away.  They will take over his care and move him for preservation.  Before Eric leaves, you will be asked if you want to see him.  We lose control of our bladders and bowels when we die.  Blood is also a possibility.  You may want to wait until he's been cleaned up."

Unseeing a loved one's most vulnerable moment is an impossibility.  Funeral homes, and medical examiners, are able to wash and prepare a body for viewing.  Each advocate is different, but I encourage a family to wait until a best effort can be made to say goodbye.

Brute force is needed to lift dead weight.  Corporal concerns are uncertain: limbs flop; gasses escape; fluids pool.  Inviting a family to gather elsewhere for prayer works, sometimes.  

Sometimes they want to see what cannot be unseen.  

Either way, advocates walk with survivors on their worst days.  We wait for calls to serve the living, among the dead.