In the Company of Grievers

Suffice it to say, I am a bereaved Momma and I care deeply for all grievers.

I am not a grief expert. Yes, I have studied grief and I do have lived experience. When asked, I tend to describe myself as someone on an ever-evolving, continuous, grief, healing, and wellness journey.

My son’s death will always be a part of me. I will not ever sugarcoat child loss. 💔 Nothing can ever prepare a grieving family for the intense pain. I miss my son Clarke every day, but I still have joy in my life. I believe that grief and joy can co-exist.

I have learned a lot about grief and hope in 17 years on the journey. I know I will never stop learning.

My greatest teachers on this journey have been other grievers.

I have learned so much from conversing with grieving adults, children, teens, and elderly folks. Complete strangers and friends who have courageously spoken to me from their hearts. (I know full well how difficult it is to recant our stories💔).

Brave individuals have shared their deeply personal stories with me. These grieving folks have spoken openly of their loss experiences and coping methods. Grief is unique. Grief is complicated. Grief cannot be willed away. Grief sucks. It helps when we share our stories. Grief can be a lonely road.

Some have spoken to me of their anger, sadness, compassion that was bestowed upon them, joy, bitterness, hope and their self-care modalities... They have shared stories that are raw and heart-wrenching. Stories that are inspiring. Stories that offer glimmers of hope.

Trust me when I say I have met grieving folks in many different places and cities. Complete strangers have hugged me and thanked me for letting them speak about their loss. I have sat, stood, and walked with grievers. I have heard stories of loss in parking lots, an antique store, a park, a lobby in an apartment building, etc.

People have apologized to me for crying. Tears do not bother me. I have cried a river of tears. I have also met grievers who do not cry. And that’s okay, too. Everyone grieves differently. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Grief is as unique as the love we carry.

I completely understand why some people find it easier to speak to a stranger. (I was told in my early grief years by someone who was very close to me at that time to please stop speaking about my son.) It was very hurtful. 💔

I learned very quickly that some people do not have the capacity to be around the grieving. Everyone is different. Grief makes many uncomfortable. Not everyone will understand or know what to say, but that’s why it’s so important to surround yourself with people who do. Those who listen without judgment, offer compassion, and make space for your grief without trying to fix it.

We love hard. We grieve hard. I feel honoured when a griever shares their story with me. I truly believe that our stories matter.

In my early grief, I was deeply grateful for the people who took the time to listen. Those who allowed me to speak Clarke’s name, share my memories, and express my pain without judgement. Their kindness, patience, and willingness to simply be present helped me survive the early days of heartbreak. I will forever be thankful for those who listened when I needed to be heard most.

Over the years, my grief has softened. I now remember with more love than pain. I enjoy speaking about the love and happiness Clarke brought to our family.

I will always respectfully listen to other grievers. A heartfelt shout-out to all the grievers who have courageously shared their stories with me over the years. Your openness and honesty have touched my heart and taught me so much.

Yours in hope, Denise