“What do They Need?” Responding to Death and Grief

Some societal norms are extremely difficult to change. It takes years, generations, even, for ideas to be challenged and subtly shift. Grief, after the tragic death of a loved one, is one of those norms. Slowly though, as more people speak out about their personal experiences, their family, friends, and acquaintences begin to see and experience truths that defy what they think is the ‘normal reaction’ and become more cognizant of their own thinking and ways they react to death and grief.

A friend of mine called me with devestating news. The teenaged son of another hockey family had died by suicide. My heart immediately broke for this family who’s lives had suddenly and forever changed. I did not know this family but intimately knew the barage of decisions, conversations, and emotions they were in the midst of living. My friend sought me out to ask for advice; specifically, “What do they need Sheri? What can I do to help them?”.

You see, this friend was aware of many struggles my wife and I went through immediately after our oldest daughter’s death by suicide. She knew she wanted to do something for this family, but, because of the amount of articles I have shared on my personal Facebook account, the frank discussions we have had over the past 4 years, she didn’t know what would actually help them and not be just the typical (well intentioned) “expression of condolences” that is so common after a loved one has died.

At first, I was taken back; “What does she mean? How am I suppoes to answer this question?” echoed in my head. I had never been asked this before. By anyone. Ever. I did not know this family, who they were, what they liked, but this friend realized that although she did know them and knew who they were, she didn’t know the most important piece required to help them in that moment; how to respond and support this family in their deepest time of need. I wish everyone had this much insight when responding to death.

I told her my heartfelt thoughts. Ultimately, I don’t know what she and her family chose to do when they reached out to this family. But I have every confidence that whatever their decision was, it was done with intention of offering practical help and support as the family began their grief journey. I strongly believe that losing a child and losing them by suicide add two extremely complicated and difficult layers to one’s grief journey. I greatly appreciate my friend for acknowledging and wanting to honour this when sending her condolences and offer to help her hockey friends. She gives me hope; hope that not everyone must experience tragic death like the loss of a child to suicide to really get grief.

Friends, the way we deal with, acknowledge, and think of death and grief is changing. Society, overall, is slowly opening to the idea that death is just the beginning of a life-long journey of grief for those left behind. Societal understanding is slowly swinging from the concept of the “stages of grief” to accepting that grief is a messy path that twists and turns, double-backs, and stalls, is onmipresent and never-ending. So please keep speaking your truth about your own journey. Let it be known that the old norms are wrong and when you have an opportunity to see the change, like I did when my friend called me, take comfort that through your voice, change is happening.

COVID-19 The Undertow of Grief

Grief is often times compared to ocean waves. At first the waves are constantly crashing over you, with almost no time to catch your breath or find your footing again before the next wave crashes over you. As time goes on, these waves become both smaller and more spread out leaving you time to catch your breath, find your footing, and even begin to experience joyfull moments in the calmer waters of life. Since the death of our oldest daughter, McKenzie, in 2017 I can affirm just how accurately this describes my grief journey. I have felt, however, a subtle shift in my ocean.

Grief is always shifting and evolving; it is a never-ending journey of countless twists and turns. I spoke about one shift in my post “The IF Zone” and “Should Be’s” of Grief. I still feel this shift present in my grief jouney. As my nieces and nephews continue to age, pass milestones such as graduations, the birth of children, etc.. I feel myself imagining what life would be if McKenzie were still here. What would she be doing? Who would she be sharing her life with? Where would she be living? In the blink of an eye, all these thoughts and more flood through my brain. As I am now into my 4th year of this journey I am noticing another subtle shift and I can best describe it as the “undertow” of my ocean.

An undertow is defined as, “the seaward, subsurface flow or draft of water from waves breaking on a beach.” according the the website dictionary.com. In my ocean, I never noticed this undertow until this past year. Maybe I was too consumed with the flow of the breaking waves. Maybe the undertow was weaker than the surface flow. Maybe this undertow has absolutely nothing to do with my grief and is a catalist changing my journey. I am still discovering the cause of this under current but I have one main suspect in mind; COVID-19. After over a year into this pandemic, it should not be a surprise that it has slowly affected every facet of our lives, including grief.

Global pandemic, social distancing, masks, co-horts, vaccinations. All of these are directly linked to two things; COVID-19 and our bloodpressure. I knew this and was very aware of how attentive and gentle I had to be with my mental health as we waded further and further into how our daily lives changed. I did not, however, consider how this virus could and would impact my grief journey. COVID-19 is the undertow of my ocean. It is the sometimes subtle, sometimes obtrusively strong, pull underneath the waves that are still omnipresent in my daily life. I think that is why I did not realize what was happening for so long. I have become accustomed to focussing, riding, and even predicting the ebb and flow of the height and span of my waves. Special family event such as Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, and angelversaries are always followed by days, or weeks, of increasingly turbulent waves. I understood this pattern and actually find comfort in it and allow myself to lean into the waves knowing that they are temporary. I finally realized why it was harder and harder to spring back from each temporary overwhelming emotions.

COVID-19 has not only complicated grief for those of us who have lost loved ones during the past year, but thrown a wrench into all of our grief journies, no matter how long we have been on its path. It has caused an undercurrent in each and every part of our lives. I lost my mother quite suddenly during the beginning month of our lockdown. It continues to be difficult to understand and accept that she is really gone. As an educator, this school year has been very challenging. Teaching grade 2 students online, from my home, has required a huge learning curve. Not seeing family and friends on a regular basis for so long has been a strain for all of us. All these stresses have been caused by COVID-19. I think this is what the undercurrent is for each and everyone of us. Have you noticed that it is harder to shake off the sadness, the anger, the depression and anxiety that accompanies the times when our waves are higher and/or closer together?

It took me over a year to really realize what was happening. I encourage you to reflect on your past year, your ebb and flow of your feelings, your reactions/responses to stresses this past year. Is there an undertow in your ocean? They say that the biggest step in tackling a problem is identifying it. Now that I have done so, of course, the next step is to work with this new presence in my life. I understand this journey we are on well enough now to not fool myself into believing this undertow is just going to magically disappear. It is just one more complication that I will find ways to cope with and weave into the tapestry I call life.