Hi Jim! I love this topic. I am the CEO of Lightways Hospice and Serious Illness Care in Joliet, IL. It is part of my new employee orientation that staff may not use the words expire, pass or transition. Or any other euphemism! That as a hospice provider and hospice professionals we must lead the charge to not be afraid to say the word. At least at the office, in our notes and in our own lives. When we are with a family, it may not be appropriate. I have a power point slide that says cars pass, milk expires and people die! I will correct them if they send an email using any other word! Thank you for talking about this. I am always shocked when my colleagues don't say the word.
I agree that the words we use to describe death and dying are linked to our overall comfort level with these topics. A lot of the phrases we use allow us to avoiding saying what is really happening. I appreciate the desire to say gentle words with those who are grieving, but being able to simply state "I'm sorry your mother died" also has the power to connect people in a deeper way than usual, more avoidant language.
Thanks for this. We are involved in the same mission with our podcast which is going into it's fourth year soon! Let us know if you'd like to receive an invite to our interview schedule when we begin recording again in January.
You raise a good point! It is far easier to admit a phone died than a loved one.
Words do have impact. Every life has an ending and the more we learn about what lies ahead the more likely that part of our life journey may be a bit easier.
There is no hospice for a phone, no doula needed to guide one through the process. Knowledge will definitely make life easier for those who remain.
I’m with you on plain language. But as a hospice social worker, I’ve learned to ask what words people are comfortable with. Some say, “Just call it what it is.” Others really don’t want to hear “dying” yet.
I think plain language matters. So does meeting people where they are.
That’s part of why I wrote seven family stories about dying. Sometimes it’s easier to find the words when you’ve heard them in someone else’s story first.
Hi Jim! I love this topic. I am the CEO of Lightways Hospice and Serious Illness Care in Joliet, IL. It is part of my new employee orientation that staff may not use the words expire, pass or transition. Or any other euphemism! That as a hospice provider and hospice professionals we must lead the charge to not be afraid to say the word. At least at the office, in our notes and in our own lives. When we are with a family, it may not be appropriate. I have a power point slide that says cars pass, milk expires and people die! I will correct them if they send an email using any other word! Thank you for talking about this. I am always shocked when my colleagues don't say the word.
Jim,
I agree that the words we use to describe death and dying are linked to our overall comfort level with these topics. A lot of the phrases we use allow us to avoiding saying what is really happening. I appreciate the desire to say gentle words with those who are grieving, but being able to simply state "I'm sorry your mother died" also has the power to connect people in a deeper way than usual, more avoidant language.
Thanks for this. We are involved in the same mission with our podcast which is going into it's fourth year soon! Let us know if you'd like to receive an invite to our interview schedule when we begin recording again in January.
You raise a good point! It is far easier to admit a phone died than a loved one.
Words do have impact. Every life has an ending and the more we learn about what lies ahead the more likely that part of our life journey may be a bit easier.
There is no hospice for a phone, no doula needed to guide one through the process. Knowledge will definitely make life easier for those who remain.
I’m with you on plain language. But as a hospice social worker, I’ve learned to ask what words people are comfortable with. Some say, “Just call it what it is.” Others really don’t want to hear “dying” yet.
I think plain language matters. So does meeting people where they are.
That’s part of why I wrote seven family stories about dying. Sometimes it’s easier to find the words when you’ve heard them in someone else’s story first.