An incident in the Churches' Bookshop a couple of weeks ago reminded me of something in my past, and I have told this to a few people since, to find that some are appalled and others laughed.
I see nothing wrong with buying the sympathy card ahead. It doesn't change anything, and the person is sure to have one when they want to offer sympathy. There's a kind of magical thinking going on in saying "how awful." Buying the card has no power.
We used to have a lady at church who bought up more or less every sympathy card we made 'just in case'. Angela and I were gently amused at the lady buying one specifically for that family as much because of the way she said it - but it was quite sensible. I've been more surprised at people who thought it weird or awful.
Carefully picking a sympathy card in advance is quite realistic - but I must admit the request for a 'fill-it-in-at-home' death certificate was unique!
How very practical, funnily enough we have a selection of greeting cards that my husband receives periodically, he donates to various charities and one of their fund raising efforts is to send a selection of cards out asking for a donation, hence we have everything from Hatches, matches and dispatches covered.
As for your anecdote, there did not seem to be a lot of love there, did there? I like how your Chaplain handled things for you, why bother you when there was noting you could do.
Miss C is now in the shop being 'diagnosed', will let you know what the prognosis is, probably expensive!
Still learning my way around Windows 10 and Miss T. I do like pin and no pass word.
That particular chaplain was a wonderful man - and very practical! I guess the sisters weren't that close, but the younger one felt it was her duty to visit - as long as the buses were OK.
My new laptop is called Gandalf. Sort of Gandalf the Silver.
I always have an assortment of cards on hand -- including sympathy ones. There's something nice about using physical cards. My aunts loved looking at their cards long after they got them. (Though admittedly, with the price of postage etc. it's not always practical.)
(My mom used to be the 'correspondent' for her ladies' club -- she'd send out birthday or get well or sympathy cards to whoever in the club had need of one (I know that's worded poorly; my apologies.)
I totally agree that there is something nice about a physical card. For which the Bookshop is forever grateful, as we can only keep going because of the card sales. I keep an assortment in as well. And our Church secretary has a store ready for writing out on the spot, like your Mom. It was that it was for a specific family, for future use, that made us smile - the very practicality of it!
I'm sorry, but I'm rather amused about the sister of that poor lady - this could have been my paternal grandmother... practical to the extreme, no matter the cost. Not that I haven't heard something similar before, but I can so totally imagine some people I met over time reacting in such a way... it's their way of coping, after all, and I don't think they'll miss their relative less, or have loved them less because of this
( ... )
I agree with you - the card lady was looking for that really lovely, special card which is why she came to us, and she was definitely thinking of the family's needs. Angela and I were amused at her practicality in a kind way, if you see what I mean.
But we did think it was a good job I actually asked if the gentleman had died yet, rather than just assuming he had because she had come in especially to buy a card for his wife, or we might have told an awful lot of people that he was dead a couple of weeks too early and caused a lot of confusion!
The elderly lady from Gateshead was also being sensible in her own way - it was just that her solution to the problem was not only unusual, but illegal, that made me remember it. And that it shocked the poor young doctor but amused the, only slightly older, more world-wise nurses.
Angela and I were amused at her practicality in a kind way, if you see what I mean. Absolutely, it's the same kind of amsuement I feel. But oh yes, what a confusion this could have caused! I suppose poor young doctors might get some shocks now and again when dealing with old(er) people, particularly those who come from villages or remote locations with their own way of things! A medical friend once working at a hospital where often patients came from remote villages in the Black Forest had her share of tales to tell, although none as unique as yours about the Gateshead lady.
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In your professions you must have seen and heard it all.
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As for your anecdote, there did not seem to be a lot of love there, did there? I like how your Chaplain handled things for you, why bother you when there was noting you could do.
Miss C is now in the shop being 'diagnosed', will let you know what the prognosis is, probably expensive!
Still learning my way around Windows 10 and Miss T. I do like pin and no pass word.
Huggs,
Lynda
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My new laptop is called Gandalf. Sort of Gandalf the Silver.
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Lynda
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(My mom used to be the 'correspondent' for her ladies' club -- she'd send out birthday or get well or sympathy cards to whoever in the club had need of one (I know that's worded poorly; my apologies.)
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But we did think it was a good job I actually asked if the gentleman had died yet, rather than just assuming he had because she had come in especially to buy a card for his wife, or we might have told an awful lot of people that he was dead a couple of weeks too early and caused a lot of confusion!
The elderly lady from Gateshead was also being sensible in her own way - it was just that her solution to the problem was not only unusual, but illegal, that made me remember it. And that it shocked the poor young doctor but amused the, only slightly older, more world-wise nurses.
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Absolutely, it's the same kind of amsuement I feel. But oh yes, what a confusion this could have caused!
I suppose poor young doctors might get some shocks now and again when dealing with old(er) people, particularly those who come from villages or remote locations with their own way of things! A medical friend once working at a hospital where often patients came from remote villages in the Black Forest had her share of tales to tell, although none as unique as yours about the Gateshead lady.
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