Sunday, May 31, 2020

Processing Grief -- With Movies



This has been a time when things were hard and films have been there as a comfort blanket and psychological reset. I have watched many films during this lockdown that have offered this: Booksmart, What We Do in the Shadows, Game Night to name three. And it has led me to dwell on how cinema has helped me process grief.

It does not have to be a "great" movie and it does not have to be about grief. Here is what he has to say about the dumb action movie about a prehistoric fish, "The Meg."

The Meg is a dumb film. It’s surprisingly bloodless and clearly has had an edit or two to reshape it before it reached cinemas. But as I watched a giant shark decimate the waters of a packed beach I knew this had been the right choice. There is not an ounce of our reality in this Jason Statham vs. prehistoric shark flick and it helped me detach from the day and the news we had received. Cinema helped me when I needed to, as it would many times again.

Sometimes grief helps you to experience a film as the film helps you process grief.

"Parasite" is a much sadder watch when revisited. Maybe I was emotionally raw but you feel the pain and anguish that is at the film’s core, the rage that seems to course through it is more potent than ever.






Cinema and Grief

Saturday, May 30, 2020

From the Gravestone of Artist Gwen Frostic

Michigan artist Gwen Frostic: Here lies one doubly blessed -- she was happy and she knew it.

Jim Breuer Cares for his Father

Former SNL cast member Jim Breuer talks about taking care of his aging father.

[W]hen his car was finally taken away, he stopped shaving. He stopped bathing. He would sleep all day long. That literally was the beginning of killing my father. His giving up the car was throwing in the flag—it’s over. Now I have to be dependent on everyone else.

So I knew if I left him alone, nobody would sacrifice what I would do. [I had to] clean him, shower him, get him on the bus. Now he has to go to the bathroom. We pull over. Oh, shoot. He didn’t make it. Clean him again. But you know what? We laughed so hard. There were times where I cried. I knew if I didn’t do this, he had nothing to live for. [At shows], he talked to people. I saw how much life it gave him.

...


I learned sacrifice. I learned the importance of life, the importance of getting rid of our own pride and selfishness. The greatest thing that I had in my life was those moments with my dad that I sacrificed. I looked at him as a soldier. He’s a wounded soldier. It’s my duty as a human to take care of this soldier.

I learned more about my father in his last 5 to 6 years than I ever did my whole lifetime. One of the things I did, I would go, “Dad, I know you don’t know how to work YouTube, but wait until you see this concert. I found Hank Williams in 1940. And look at this.” Then that brings on memories and it brings happiness and it gives him a little extra breath in life. He’s not concentrating on “I want my car. I want to drive.” Now you’re just spending time. [I had] the greatest memories of a lifetime just watching this. It’s like watching a child grow—except for we were never taught that this is what we’re supposed to do for parents.

...

The minute I got rid of the attitude of “you need to do this” and “you need to do that.” I just realized the more I gave him love, the more I just spent time, the more I played his music, the more I took him out for a little drive and [asked him for advice], he felt important. It gave him meaning, it gave him purpose.






I Took My 84-Year-Old Dad on a Comedy Tour. It Changed Our Relationship Forever

Friday, May 29, 2020

Portraits of Grief With Unplanned Relevance

The New York Times writes about two television series that are particularly apt for this moment:

Two recent Netflix series, however, “Never Have I Ever” and “I’m Not Okay With This,” provide a different kind of comfort, particularly in these times: complex and dynamic representations of grief.

Though both shows are obviously oblivious to our current reality, of masks and Zoom calls and desperately baking bread, they serve as an apt metaphor for what we’re facing, with a pandemic causing widespread illness and death. The shows’ respective protagonists, already caught in the tangle of adolescence, itself a time of awkwardness and isolation, exhibit how grief can locate and lodge itself in the body and change how we physically move through the world.







Now on Netflix: Portraits of Grief With Unplanned Relevance

Sunday, May 17, 2020

A Chaplain on What To Say to People Who Are Dying

You’re never going to know what the right thing to say is. So silence is often your best friend. For two reasons. One, silence offers you the space to get to know what to say. It allows you to be present in a way where the moment washes over you so you can become inspired. Your gut tells you what to say. That’s the right thing to say or do. And No. 2, it offers a space for the other person to say what they want to say or do what they want to do, or to just cry or just be in the silence....My best advice to you is forget what you think you know, and just listen....You don’t have a final goodbye, which for a lot of people helps with closure. It’s going to take a lot to accept that, that that’s the way it is. It happened that way. It doesn’t mean that that person wasn’t deeply loved and didn’t know that they were deeply loved. It doesn’t mean that you can’t share your love for that person with other people who also loved that person.

The best we can do is to speak to other people who also knew that person and share memories. Talk about how they made you laugh, or they made you angry. Laugh about that because it doesn’t matter anymore.


How I Talk to People Before They Die

Friday, May 15, 2020

A Friar at COVID-19 Deathbeds: "The Miracle is to Let Go"

From The Washington Post, a story about a friar at the side of those dying of COVID-19:

Normally,” he said, “the family is there with me bedside at death, and when we say the Our Father it is very emotional. Now I stare at a person that is taking their last breaths. I’m with a doctor and a couple of nurses. We’re saying goodbye.”

...

Each morning, he reviews death logs. He then walks through the emergency department and intensive care unit, where he stands behind glass and cues up music on the smartphone he keeps in his pocket. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” is a favorite selection. On Funky Fridays, as he calls them, Bathe mixes Benedictine chants with James Brown. If patients are awake, he flexes his biceps or pumps a fist — encouragement to stay strong. He takes precautions when praying over the intubated, slipping on an N95 mask and face shield. In all, he ministers to more than 25 patients daily.
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“Music gives a little more sense of sacredness so I don’t get distracted by nurses and doctors screaming,” he said. “I am focused on that patient, looking at that face. I know who that person is, imagine what it is like for them to be alive.”

...

When a Catholic dies, he performs the commendation of the dead, a seven-minute service. His responsibilities range from distributing Communion to finding prayer books for patients across faiths to leading memorial services for staff. He is “staunchly against” virtual bereavement, which has become common amid the pandemic, insisting on providing a physical presence.
“People are looking for a miracle when the miracle is to let go,” he said.



At New York hospital, a friar watches over those dying: ‘The miracle is to let go’

Monday, May 4, 2020

Talking to Children About Death and Loss in the Age of COVID-19

Families everywhere are facing loss in ways they never have before. For some, these losses are hitting closer to home with the deaths of loved ones; but all families are experiencing some amount of loss - a normal semblance of day-to-day life, the cancellation of anticipated celebrations, vacations, camps and more. As parents seek advice and resources to navigate this newly uncharted territory, they're turning to trusted brands like PJ Library to help draw a roadmap of the "new normal" of quarantine - as well as a toolkit for having more difficult conversations with children about death and dying, mourning and remembrance.

On May 6th at 3:30pm ET, PJ Library will host a public webinar, "Talking with Children about Death and Loss in the Age of the Coronavirus." This streaming video discussion will be free to families everywhere, helping them tackle one of the hardest subjects to deal with as a parent, approached through the lens of Jewish teaching and values.


Register for the webinar