Blessed are those who mourn...

One of the reasons I have been mildly terrified about my boss’ hospitalization/on-going health problems keeping her from work was my genuine concern that if the s*** hit the fan and we had a true emergency, no one would really know what to do.

Lo and behold, we had an emergency today. A tenant, who was by all accounts a very nice man, was found dead in his apartment. Sadly, that isn’t really a new thing around here, but it was the first time we had to go at it without Irma.

I didn’t go upstairs to wait with the body—my coworker and leasing agent went. I stayed downstairs to mind the office and try to manage affairs for everyone else. It turned out to be a good thing I was there, because the daughter of the deceased came racing in. She asked for her dad by name, and I guess the look on my face told her that he was already gone.


She reacted the way you would expect; dropped her bag, tried to get away from me, hyperventilating, and saying, “No” over and over again. Before I could stop her she tried to get on the elevator to go to her father’s apartment, and actually took a swing at me when I tried to stop her (don’t worry, I ducked.). Security intervened then because EMS expressly forbade the family from entering the apartment. After she calmed down we managed to get her into the security office to sit down.


A detective briefly interviewed the daughter and the fiancée of the deceased. They wanted to go upstairs immediately to see the remains, but security took me aside and said that it would have been too traumatic for the family to see their loved one in that way. So I took them (after a LOT of talking) to a conference room in my office and got them settled with water and tissues.

After we got them settled, hours of agonizing waiting began. I escorted the daughter to the bathroom because she needed to vomit (which always seems to make people feel better when they’re upset), and came back and waited with them until the authorities released the body.

I would have liked to have consoled the family in shifts, since I didn’t feel adequately prepared to counsel anyone so soon after such a traumatic event. But a co-worker sort of put her foot in her mouth and offended the freshly-bereaved family, who politely (I confess, I would not have been so polite!) threw her out of the room. They asked me to stay—I guess I’d established some sort of trust with them. (Evidently, helping someone who tried to hit you when they need to vomit must make them think you’re trustworthy.)

Grief comes in waves—sometimes we sat in silence, sometimes the ladies would burst out laughing, but more often than not they broke into unadulterated weeping. Whenever one or both was lucid enough to want to talk to me, they’d soon phone a relative and the waves of sobs would come back.I’ve never lost a parent, but I’ve lost enough people before to know that all of this was natural, and I certainly remember how it feels. Nothing you feel seems rational, and for a moment you think you may be absolutely crazy for feeling the way you do.

For my part, I didn’t talk a whole lot unless I was spoken to or telling them what was happening at that moment (“The authorities have given permission for the funeral home to take him.” “The funeral director will be here within the hour.” “Would you like me to call a pastor?” That sort of thing.) When the funeral director had finally arranged the remains so that the family could see him, both women hugged me before they left to see him.


I suppose I could have gone upstairs with them, but I felt like it would have frightened the women too much if I hadn’t reacted well to the body. So the guards and the funeral director escorted them upstairs. By then, it was long into my lunch break, so I went for a walk by the river and got some food.


I have a feeling we’ll all be pretty useless for the rest of the day—this morning sapped our strength. At least it’s Friday, so we can blow off some steam after work! The whole morning was emotionally exhausting (God bless the priests, chaplains, and pastors who do this all the time!), so I’ll be glad to not have to come in tomorrow.