
Honoring Sorrow, Attending Goodbyes
By Clara Kilbourn
Frederick Obold is a gentle man. Gentle, but strong.
The warmth in his eyes and the softness of his smile reflect kindness that comes from deep inside. It's when you share a handshake that you feel the strength of a man who has devoted his life to caring for people facing the end of life, as well as their loved ones.
"Death is a part of life," Obold says. "That's what keeps me going."
Obold, known as Fred to friends and acquaintances, was one of the original volunteers when Hospice of Reno County was organized more than two decades ago to serve those who know that their remaining life span is estimated at six months or less. Now its chaplain, he carries a card with the title "Pastoral/Bereavement Care," and his job is to walk with grieving individuals.
I do not tell them what they should or should not be feeling or what they should do," he says. I don't treat people - I companion people."
As chaplain, Obold ministers to those who belong to no church. How does he perform what many would call a difficult role?
"I listen," he says without hesitation. "My task is not to walk in front or back, pulling or pushing. It's to walk with people, serving as a companion."
In his work, there are "lots of tears" because there's "lots of love."
"The tears are not just because of the absence or coming absence of a loved one," he says. "We also grieve for experiences we will never have in the future- grief for children who will not have grandparents at a wedding or the birth of a child; middle-age adults grieving for their surviving parents".
As part of the process, Obold has defined the absence of a loved one as a reason for grief, but grief can also be much broader, he knows. There's grief for loss of health in the aging process, loss of a job, and losses in the stock market, as well as for negative political situations and national events. Summing it all up, life is a series of losses, he says.
A smile fills his face, however, as he speaks of the joy he finds in working with people who want, need, and frequently welcome conversation. "The task is not to take the grief away," he explains, "but to work with memories which further enrich and enhance the lives of family survivors."
Reflecting on his own life, Obold, who is 64, says he believes he has always been in a pattern of training for grief management. He began his professional career as a teacher in elementary and special education. At age 35, he attended seminary and became a pastor.
"All of that is a part of what I'm doing now," he says. "I don't see any coursework in college or graduate school that wasn't preparing me for what I'm doing."
During his teaching years, Obold saw firsthand the acute needs of children. The deaths of one of his teachers and his father allowed him to know the profound effect of losing a loved one, he says.
At Hospice House, the residential facility, his purpose is to allow clients to live in the fullness of life and maximize the time they have with their loved ones. In a then-and-now comparison, Obold notes that through the years, the medical community has sharpened its ability to offer a prognosis for the end of life.
"Oh yes, it's better than before," he says. "Families who are really interested, with a mature understanding, work at the concept of planning ahead, not with "If I ever die' but with 'When I die.' There's a lot of difference there."
At the end, mourning and grieving are different, Obold explains. "Grieving is the internal longing, a sense of separation, and isolation that comes from within. Mourning is the expression of loss."
Society tends to express its sympathy to those who have lost loved ones for only a brief time, but grief can last for a long period, he says. Along the way, while the emotional valleys may become easier to endure, the peaks still cause pain. "There are always holidays, anniversaries, times when we want to say, 'I really would like to talk to you about this,'" Obold says.
Obold's colleagues attest to his gentle nature and ability to reach those in grief. "He's genuine," says Darla Wilson, executive director of Hospice of Reno County. "It comes through to the families he meets that he's here for them. It says a lot when we have him serving a patient in those last months and they request that he do the memorial service."
