When my father lay dying for several months of last year, he never prayed nor asked for prayer. It never occurred to me to offer any. The hospice did send a clergyman around to pray and we didn't object because he seemed like a nice fella who wanted to comfort us. Because I wasn't raised religious, I felt no urge to tell him to get lost. I just figured, "Well, do your thang, dadz, can't hurt, I guess." He sang a death song over my father and that was actually kind of nice. I liked it. At the funeral there were no clergy. No clergy at the burial either--just family.

No clergy came to visit the grieving widow afterwards since my mom doesn't know any and didn't need any coming around. The dying was a lot harder on us than the death itself.