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The ICCM Journal | Summer 2020 | V88 No. 2
grief upon grief In loving memory.... I could only watch when my 78 year old mother started to become short of breath. She had spent the previous 5 days with a high temperature and persistent cough, and as her only daughter, I tried to make her as comfortable as possible. However, as her condition rapidly deteriorated and I listened as she gasped for air, I rang for an ambulance with a mixture of fear and dread and some small part of me, hope. The ambulance crew carried out an assessment and the decision was made to admit her to hospital. I wasn’t allowed to go with her, hold her hand or give her comfort, instead I watched them take her away, not knowing then it would be the last time I would see her. The hospital confirmed she tested positive for Covid-19. Her breathing worsened and she was put on a ventilator. During this time, I had to have the conversation around placing a Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) order on my mum, given on the advice of the hospital – it was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. Despite the best efforts of the hospital staff, Mum sadly died 7 days later. After being in self isolation myself I was forced with having to arrange the funeral of my mum. Mourning the death of a loved one is hard enough, but the coronavirus has made it an even more difficult and lonely task. I rang the funeral director who informed me that no face-to-face meetings were possible, they could not provide any cars, or viewing. The crematorium still allowed services to go ahead but numbers would be restricted to 10 made up of close family. I completed the paperwork over the phone and via email – and not once did I encounter a physical human being. Although everyone tried their best to offer words of comfort, there would be no reassuring hugs, offers of tissues or the feeling that the weight of grief is somehow shared, I felt truly on my own. Despite her age, my mum had an active and social lifestyle – probably more than me! She was involved with several clubs and organisations and had a lot of friends. It was heart-breaking that they could not be part of her death as they were her life. We were offered the option of having the funeral streamed online for those friends and family that were not allowed to attend, which at least offered some comfort. On the day of the funeral we turned up in separate cars, waited inside our vehicles until the hearse arrived, and only then did we go into the crematorium chapel, separately, military style and keeping 2m apart. The chapel was devoid of chairs and those that were there were placed strategically to reinforce the social distancing rules. There are no words to describe how I felt as I sat there on my own – funerals are supposed to bring a level of closure but instead I felt numb and found the whole setting somewhat surreal. We listened to her favourite pieces of music, recounted her life as best we could and exited the chapel – no touching of the coffin permitted so we blew her kisses instead. There was none of the usual conversation that would normally follow such a sad event, no gathering, no hugs or kisses, we were left with just our own thoughts. I do, however, feel grateful, that during these circumstances where we have had to change the way we live, I could hold a funeral for Mum, even one with enforced restrictions, despite my rollercoaster of emotions. Losing Mum has no doubt left a huge hole in my life, but I am thankful to all those professions that made it possible for me to be there at the end and say goodbye. I cannot express the overwhelming feeling of loss and grief I am experiencing, but I am comforted a little from the many messages I have received, especially from those of Mum’s friends who were able to watch the funeral online and be part of her service albeit virtual. When this is all over, we will have time to reflect and hold a huge party in her memory. I would also encourage anyone who has suffered a loss to do what they can, however they feel comfortable, to honour the memory of those that have died. I know people are really afraid their loved ones will be forgotten amid this chaos so if they didn’t have access to the ritualistic final farewell that we would expect, take the opportunity to remember them, and encourage others to share their memories. Sara Edwards
