No Longer at a Loss Over Grief in the Workplace

From just beyond the steel-gray divider that separates your desk from the adjacent one, comes the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs.

Your co-worker has just returned to work following the death of a family member and something innocuous--maybe a line in a report, maybe something someone said-- has suddenly brought memories of the not-too-distant past stampeding into the workplace present.

As the nearest worker to her, you:

A) Pretend you don’t hear because it’s an awkward situation and besides, you have work to do;

B) Timidly peer across the divide to ask if she’s OK;

C) Walk over, offer a hug, tissue and perhaps tea. For the bonus round, you could return from lunch with a bouquet of irises.

Experts who have studied the needs of grieving workers say the best answer is C, but one of the most common responses is A.

Grief in the workplace.

Even as companies nationwide have become more family-friendly and employee-focused in recent years, dealing with employees who have suffered a loss remains among the most awkward, and least talked-about, work-related topics.

Co-workers who will openly discuss matters as private as prostate surgery and AIDS become suddenly silent when facing a colleague in bereavement. And employers sometimes feel torn between showing compassion and protecting the bottom line.

But some grief counselors and employee benefits administrators say overall, the attitude of business toward grief and grieving on the job is beginning to improve.

Companies are motivated not only by the desire to retain a competitive edge in this tight-as-a-drum job market, but also by the realization that as their ranks are increasingly filled with 40-to-60-something baby boomers, whose parents are in their 70s, 80s, even 90s, the issue may be about to hit home in a very big, and very painful way.

“This is going to be huge,” said Ann Van Buskirk, an intellectual properties expert at San Diego State University and author of the book “One More Star in Heaven Now,” which offers advice on dealing with grief in the workplace. “Absolutely and without exception, huge.

“Many of the people in upper management [nationwide] are between 45 and 65 so their parents are going through this. . . . It will be important that companies show compassion, so they encourage loyalty from their employees.

“The benefits package is not just financial or fiscal,” she added. “Today, it’s personal.”

I found out just how “personal” it can be last month, when my father passed away unexpectedly at my family home in Chicago. Like many employees, I was well versed in my company’s array of health care benefits, but knew little about services offered to those in mourning.

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Experts on grief in the workplace say that today, most companies have some sort of formal program to address the needs of workers who have suffered a loss--typically offering three days for an immediate family member (with the definition of “immediate family” varying).

In some cases, the standard three days might be adequate. But in Los Angeles, land of a million immigrants, imagine the added stress layer for a son who must head home, make funeral arrangements, tidy up family affairs and get back from say, Guatemala, in three days.

“That person is forced to deal with choosing between their family in Guatemala and their family in L.A. that they’re trying to feed,” said Van Buskirk. “You’re not going to be able to get back in time and [in some cases] you’re just out of luck.”

In recognition of those needs, some companies are beginning to offer more generous programs, experts said. At Washington Mutual, one of the San Fernando Valley’s largest employers, full-time employees are offered up to five paid days off for the funeral or arrangements of any immediate family member, including in-laws, grandparents and aunts and uncles.

Also, experts said some companies are looking at “pooling” time, a program in which employees could “give” a co-worker some of their vacation or sick time.

And one East Coast bank gives employees a check of several hundred dollars to defray expenses, one counselor said.

In addition to the “at need” portion of their bereavement package, more companies are seeking the aid of counselors like Helen Fitzgerald to train their human resource professionals on dealing more effectively with workplace grief.

Through her work heading up a grief counseling program in northern Virginia, Fitzgerald, who also is director of training with the Washington, D.C.-based American Hospice Foundation, realized that “There was a big hole” in the amount of information available about grief at work.

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To help plug some of the gaps, Fitzgerald created a 100-page manual on dealing with grief. In addition, she routinely gives talks to human resource and employee assistance professionals, like a recent presentation in New York that brought out companies like Metropolitan Life and Union Carbide.

“One big thing that’s changed now is that I get calls from companies to come help them out,” said Fitzgerald. “In the past they would have just swept it under the rug.”

Cathy Feldman, publisher of Santa Barbara-based Blue Point Books, said Van Buskirk’s book has been ordered by nearly 100 companies nationwide, from Pitney Bowes to Ernst & Young and Viacom.

And Barbara Engleman, coordinator of adult programs for Our House, a nonprofit bereavement counseling center, said she anticipates that her center will see an increase in the number of local firms looking to have counselors come out and talk about grief in the workplace.

“We definitely are looking to expand that part” of the operation, said Engleman, whose agency opened an office in Woodland Hills in December. “We’re not a society that does grief very well, so we see education as part of our mission.”

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Counselors said education, or a lack thereof, often contributes to some of the awkwardness employees feel when a grieving co-worker returns to the fold.

“People didn’t know what to say,” said Van Buskirk of her experience when her mother died. “They didn’t know how to act.”

Often, she said, they do nothing.

“They were more afraid of doing the wrong thing.”

“You can’t make it worse, even if you say the dumbest thing,” she added. “If you’re expressing real concern and compassion you can’t make it worse. It’s the people who turn away and let you stand there all alone that are making it worse.”

Some counselors said they expect large firms, with deeper pockets, to take the lead in crafting more accommodating programs for the bereaved. Others noted that it’s small firms that can often be more flexible.

Said Van Buskirk: “Is either one of them doing enough? No. Overall, would I call it ‘good’ yet? No. But it’s starting.”

Fitzgerald agreed that the veil over grief at work may be lifting.

“I’m confident we’re going to see some change,” she said. “Gradual, but steady.

“We’re on the cutting edge of a new trend.”

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My father’s life ended May 21, 2000, in the still of the night. S. Benton Robinson, a longtime businessman on Chicago’s South Side, died in his sleep at the age of 71.

The impact of his sudden death--not a sniffle or headache foretold his passing--hit my family with the knee-buckling force of a major temblor. It will be years before we “get over it,” if we ever do.

Ever the businessman at heart, my father delighted not so much in the art of the deal, but in the quiet, steady work of creating something from nothing.

For more than 30 years he worked for, and helped grow, one of the largest African American owned businesses in the nation. Later, he formed his own auditing company, savoring the addition of each new client much as the farmer marvels at the tender young shoots as they push through the soil.

He took much the same tack with me and my two brothers.

In the solid solace of his 6-foot-3-inch frame, I found strength to tackle life’s mountains--from riding a two-wheeler minus the training wheels to writing a business column.

Much of my business acumen (such as it is) I owe to him.

Now comes the ultimate test of lessons learned, logic imparted, tutorials internalized.

A teacher-less student, a fatherless child.

The hardest lesson, of course, is the one that takes wisdom and maturity and faith to accept: that parents are not ours to keep.

They are here for a season to bring us into the sun, then to step back and gaze down at us from the stars.

And in that growing season, if we are lucky (which I was) they give us solid roots and a firm foundation upon which to stand, alone and tall, when their time in the sun is ended.

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Valley@Work runs each Tuesday. Karen Robinson-Jacobs can be reached at Karen.Robinson@latimes.com.