The Gentle Gift of Volunteering

My parents taught me about the importance of volunteering when I was a teenager.

My Mom would say to people, “Denise can help you out.” Then my Mom would tell me that I was volunteering.

Looking back, I am grateful for all of my different volunteering experiences!

I can, however, honestly say volunteering at my children’s grade school in the Reading Room was my favourite place to volunteer! I met so many wonderful individuals! There was always laughter and lots of smiles!

Really nice students, awesome teachers, principals, parents, and other volunteers! It was always so rewarding to see the students progress! It was a very nice school community. I enjoyed being there!

My son Matthew always asked me to go on his school field trips. I went on several!

I recall barbecuing a tremendous amount of hot dogs with some other parents at a Back To School September Barbecue! It was fun! Caroline, Clarke, Matthew, and their Dad thought it was hilarious because someone called me “Mrs. Barbecue!” So many memories of my children together at their grade school.

After my son Clarke died, so many things changed. I could not go back to the school and volunteer anymore. It was just too difficult to be there. Too painful for me. I felt so torn. I had so many fond memories of Clarke being at school.

When I was volunteering, he would always walk by and wave and smile at me. I would see him standing out front of his portable chatting with his friends. I used to pick Matthew and Clarke up at school and take them with me to watch their big sister Caroline play high school hockey.

It took my breath away walking back into the school with Matthew and knowing how heartbroken he was to be there without his big brother Clarke. Seeing Clarke’s friends and knowing how much pain they were in would give me chest pains…I could no longer volunteer. It was hard for me.

I always enjoyed when my children’s friends were at our house. Everything had changed. 💔 I missed having Clarke's friends in our home. (In the grief world, we refer to this as a secondary loss.)

My Mom, Dad, and big brother spent a lot of time at our home trying to gently help us all adjust to our new normal without Clarke. They were very close to my kids and also very heartbroken. My Dad was worried about me and he suggested I volunteer at the soup kitchen. He knew it was too difficult for me to go back to volunteering at the school.

I listened to him, and I am very thankful for his good advice. Everyone has a story. I worked very hard at the Soup Kitchen. I would work up a sweat mopping up that floor. Some people would yell at me as I handed them their cutlery. It didn’t bother me. I knew they were hurting.

I saw a lot of pain. I also saw happy people. I observed kindness and compassion. It was a busy and noisy place!

I listened to people’s stories of their many experiences. I also met people there who were very grateful to have a meal. I met people who shared their stories of loss with me. I saw children, teens, immigrants and their families, elderly people, babies, addicts, disabled people, etc. It felt good to be helping others.

I observed how thoughtful the outreach workers were! I will never forget meeting a woman named Gretchen who had the biggest heart and worked so hard running the soup kitchen!

My time volunteering at the soup kitchen taught me so much and it was a distraction from my pain.

I really believe that volunteering, serving others is something grieving moms might find helpful on their journeys. I know what a breath of fresh air it was for me.

Yours in hope,

Denise