Of all the hardships of the coronavirus pandemic, the final straw for many has been the sacrifice of traditional rituals of grief following the passing of a loved one. For example, compare these pre- and post-COVID-19 rites:
Pre-COVID-19: Families would greet a line of mourners during calling hours at a funeral home, hold a graveside service, followed by a memorial service with hymns, readings, soloists and speakers, and a reception with food, typically held at a church hall, family home or restaurant. Meanwhile, a stream of friends and neighbors would appear at their door with casseroles, cakes and cookies, depositing them in the kitchen and departing with a hug.
That was then. This is now: Remote gatherings using Zoom, YouTube and social media (for those versed in such things and possessing the technology), and announcements that “services will be held at a later date.” For many people, it’s been a pallid substitute for the honors they feel their loved one deserved.
Joan Milnes, of Greenfield, who lost her brother, Dean Elgosin, last April, recounts what she originally envisioned for him: “It would have been a Catholic Mass followed by a burial and, of course, calling hours, a wake at Kostanski’s.
“My brother worked at the Turners Falls Post Office for 38 years and he grew up in Millers Falls. He was very well known, so I think there would have been a lot of people who wanted to remember him when he died. So I envisioned a function at Terrazza’s. I had actually set aside some money to fund that. It’s a pandemic, so I knew it wasn’t going to happen then and the money is still set aside. Whether it actually ever happens — at this point, I don’t know.
“There was never really any closure about it,” Milnes said, tearfully. “People really liked my brother. He was a nice guy. I kept hearing that from everybody and, of course, I knew that anyway because he was my brother. So there was just no opportunity for everyone who knew him and liked him — family and friends — to get together and process his death. And so that’s the piece that was hard for me.
“A lot of people asked, ‘Will you have something later on, when gatherings are allowed again?’ And, of course, at that point, I said, ‘Yes.’ But that opportunity doesn’t even seem to be right around the corner yet.
“So that’s what I lost, was that opportunity for closure with people who knew Dean and cared for him.”
On the upside, sympathy can take unexpected forms, as Milnes discovered at her brother’s burial. “At the time, outdoor gatherings were restricted to not more than 10 people, so for his burial, my husband and I were expecting only the priest and the funeral home staff to be present with us.
“When we arrived at the Highland Cemetery in Millers Falls, we were surprised to see two fire engines parked at the entrance, one from Erving, one from Turners Falls. Each engine was accompanied by two firefighters who came to honor my brother’s work with the Millers Falls Fire Department, which years ago had disbanded and was absorbed by these two fire departments.
“Their presence was unexpected, emotionally moving and very much appreciated. They also made us feel not so alone — and we were still under the 10-person limit.”
Diane Ellis, of Warwick, lost her husband, Gordon Ellis, last September to pancreatic cancer. The family used Zoom to replicate traditional calling hours, where people go through a line and stop to say a few words to the bereaved.
“We had two Zoom calling hour times, each two hours long, on two different days,” Ellis said. “Each person/family that wanted to speak with the immediate family was asked to sign up in advance for a five-minute time slot, using Signup Genius. Then my son and his wife sent them a link to the Zoom event and let each person/family into the Zoom room at the scheduled time.
“So it was very personal. It wasn’t an overwhelming Zoom, where everybody’s talking at once and you can’t hear anything. It was one family at a time talking with us for five to seven minutes. And of course, that wasn’t long enough, but it was very similar to a calling hour line, where people would be passing through very quickly.
“Following the virtual calling hours, we held a prerecorded ‘Celebration of Life service’ using YouTube. Many participants were asked to contribute and my children put it all together in one service. The service could be viewed by those far and near and at different times. It is still available; as of a week ago, 813 computers had viewed it — many more than would have been at a church in our area.”
Members of the clergy seem accustomed to going with the flow and have responded to funeral restrictions in creative ways.
“I have done a Zoom memorial service with a PowerPoint presentation of thoughts, quotes, photos and music,” said the Rev. Linda Rhinehart Neas of South Deerfield. “Then, we had time to all share memories. There were a few tears, but lots of laughter and a true feeling of warmth and connection.
“I think that people really want to share more than anything else during times of grief. Being able to share, tell and hear the stories of the departed, helps to ease the grief we feel. This kind of sharing allows us to see we are not along in grief.”
Pastor Rob Gormbley, of Shelburne, said he has officiated at a number of graveside services. “Each one has been unique and all have been very different from pre-COFID times,” Gormbley said.
“On every graveside service that I have been involved with, there has been a sense of awkwardness at the start: Wanting to reach out and hug neighbors, friends and members of the family and having to refrain. Wanting to stand next to each other, hold hands, have an arm around a shoulder. And except for family groups, everyone is required to stand apart.
“At the same time, once the initial awkwardness passes, mutual sorrow and the celebration of a loved one’s life can be seen in the eyes of those attending. I believe that when it comes to those moments of loss, masks and distance do very little in separating those who gather to share their grief from each other.”
The Rev. Mick Comstock said, “Several of our people have had to delay services and are keeping their loved ones’ ashes in their homes. It has felt important to me to offer to come and bless those ashes, as a way of helping them to move on in their grief. Some have taken me up on it.”
The Rev. Dr. Cynthia Crosson-Harrington of the First Congregational Church of Whately found a way to acknowledge several members whose funerals couldn’t happen with a tribute on All Saints Day. She collected the names of those who had passed and asked a few people to write a paragraph or so on each of these folks, “emphasizing their positive attributes or something they did for others.” She then incorporated these write-ups into a sermon and placed a flower in a vase — “one by one, and socially distanced” in memory of each person.
Licensed Funeral Director Britney (Kostanski) Gioules recalls that last April, when Dean Elgosin passed, the number of people allowed to attend a function was capped at 10.
“It was really hard for families,” Gioules said. “Some people would have had hundreds of people come through for calling hours and now it would be like a fraction of that, just because of the virus. They’re not getting as much support from the community and it’s not their fault.
“It seems like we’ve gotten almost closer with our families because we’re almost the only ones that they can physically be with and be in front of to discuss how they’re feeling.
“We’re at a year now so people are navigating a little different,” Gioules continued. “(The occupancy limit is) 40 percent right now. Our building can hold about 100 people for a service, so we can have about 40 now. So we are able to have calling hours. Nobody can hang around and chat like they used to, but at least people can come through and pay their respects.”
Jeff Cole, owner of Witty’s Funeral Home in Orange, recalls, “We probably got about 90 to 100 people for a funeral. Now, with COVID, we’re very restricted. For calling hours, we just have people coming in one door to pay their respects and exit a second door. It’s very cold. People go through the motions and file through and the family knows they came through, but there’s no hugging. They don’t have time to visit with each other. It’s just a whole different ball game now.
“Hopefully, something could be done later on. I think as time goes on, some of these families that had been holding off (having a service) have started healing and they’re going to change their mind and not have any service.”
When that happens, Cole worries that people will have lost that opportunity to pay their respects to the family. “I think we all like to know that our loved ones mattered in other people’s lives.”
With gathering restrictions loosening up, Licensed Funeral Director Michael Quinn of Kidder Funeral Home in Northfield said, “People are still kind of waiting to see what’s going to happen, but we have been doing some private family viewings and we’ve had some calling hours.
“I can’t wait till it’s over and we can get back to normal — whatever normal’s going to be.
“However, I also think that anybody that is set up to do the video broadcasts of the funeral, that even when things go back to normal, I’ll bet money that they still do that. In today’s age and technology, it allows more people from a farther distance to be there — or seem like they’re there. I do think that will continue to be a trend.”
Chris Harris can be reached at charris@recorder.com.