A lesson in letting go of control

Mary’s reflection as a volunteer, lunch in the park.

Building connections through shared meals

I have been going to Green Park near St. Vincent's Hospital on Mondays at lunchtime for around ten years, sharing food with the people who hang out in the park regularly. Most of them congregate in the park because they attend the methadone clinic attached to the hospital. It is a pretty transient community, with many different people coming and going over the years, but there is always a core group who remain consistent. Over the years, I have gotten to know many of the guys well and feel as if I have been accepted into their community in a small way. I consider that to be a real privilege.

At any given time, some of the people who meet in the park would be homeless, some would be in short-term unstable accommodation, and some would be in much more stable dwellings such as public housing. They often help each other out by offering a bed to someone in need.

Navigating challenges in the community

There have been various volunteers involved with me over the years, but since the COVID lockdowns, I have been pretty much going on my own. Instead of preparing sandwiches, cake, fruit, etc., we now buy pizza each week. We now have a couple of new volunteers coming along, which makes a big difference.

Over the years, I have supported various members of the community with things such as medical appointments, court appearances, housing, and dealing with Centrelink. Sometimes I just meet with them to have a coffee and a chat. Over the years, we have also supported several funerals.

Empowering the community

Several months ago, Chris, one of the men in the community, died suddenly at home, and his friends were deeply affected, particularly the one who found the body. They were determined to ensure that they could send him off in a respectful and dignified way. It was touching to see how much it mattered to them. Because Chris had died at home, the police and the coroner were involved, and they tried to find any family members they could. My great fear was that, as we have seen in many cases, estranged family members might step in, make the arrangements, and completely exclude all the people who had been close to and loved the deceased.

Because it was difficult for his friends to communicate with the police and the coroner, they asked me to take on that role. Eventually, when no family could be found, they released the body to us to organise a funeral. Once again, Chris's friends were out of their depth, and I offered the support of Cana, both financially and in making the arrangements. But I made it very clear that they were the ones who would make all the decisions about how the funeral was run. After looking at all the different options available to them, they decided that they wanted to do it all themselves, including running the service.

Letting go and trusting their personal approach

My inner control freak kicked in a big way, and I was overcome with worry that it might be a complete embarrassment. But I knew that I had to let go and just trust. I talked with Tracy, the woman who was going to act as MC, and also with the guys who were going to give the eulogy, offering my support in whatever way I could. The following week at the park, Tracy brought along what she had started to write for me to look at, and I knew then that it would be all right. I can’t remember the words, but what she wrote was quite profound.

When the day of the funeral came, I had invited a couple of other volunteers along for moral support, and I was very glad that I had because I was pretty edgy about the whole thing. After a bit of drama with most of them missing the bus and getting lost, they eventually turned up at the chapel about 20 minutes late and then all sat on the footpath outside to have a smoke.

Eventually, we got started. Tracy soon dissolved in tears and was unable to continue. Then Chris's two friends who were giving the eulogy stood up and said, “He was our friend, and we loved him.” The person who was meant to bring the music then decided his selections weren't suitable, so just as well we had a backup plan. But it became very clear to me that because everyone was enabled to express what they really felt and everyone was treated with respect, it actually allowed people to access their feelings in a way that a more traditional funeral may not have. It was an entirely appropriate and very moving way to farewell Chris.

And all I had really needed to do was to hold a safe place to allow it to happen.