Chaplain Sara's Walk at the Beach Theory of Grief

Today at work, I went to an educational offering where Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief were discussed along with new research from George Bonano, a new book from Ruth Davis Koningsberg, and some of the work of Alan Wolfelt.  It was suggested that the Five Stages of Grief as the media has portrayed it and as has been taken in by Western or at least American culture is not true--that the research doesn't support it.  I find it amazing time and again that what was initially brought forward by Kubler-Ross as stages of anticipatory grief that she found as common ground among patients dying from terminal illnesses has been something that we try to apply to those who go on living after the loss.  With that said, everyone grieves differently, as everyone's loss is unique.  No two people have the same relationship as someone else does.  My relationship to my parents is different from my siblings relationship to my parents.  My relationship with my spouse is different from your relationship with your spouse.  The same is true for our relationships with our jobs, our coworkers, our friends, our houses, our cars, our pets, etc.  How I grieve the loss of any of these may be very different from how you would, or it could be very similar but what it won't be, is identical.  However, I do believe that there are some commonalities that we experience as we grieve, especially over the course of our life time.  My belief about grief is based my own personal experience as well as 13 years of experience working with grieving people as both a hospital and hospice chaplain.

I like to think of grieving as being like taking a walk along the beach.  First of all, I believe that grief comes in waves.  When we are young and/or new to grief, we are much like a toddler who is knocked down by the waves.  If we are lucky we have parents, family, and or friends who will pick us up.  As we grow we become stronger, we are able to walk along the beach and those waves can come washing over our feet like bittersweet memories.  Sometimes a loss can be a big deep loss and we find ourselves wading in knee deep or even chest high water.  The experiences of previous losses have made us strong enough to walk through these periods.  All waves are not the same.  Some are big crashing waves, some are small ripples, and others are tsunamis.  Waves vary depending on the season, so does grief.  Just as waves get bigger depending on the cycle of the moon or season of the year, our grief has seasons.  Holidays, anniversaries, birthdays, and other milestone moments are times we can pretty safely expect a bigger wave of grief to come our way.  The tide comes in and the tide goes out.  There are periods when it is easy to walk along the beach and not even be touched by a wave.  There are periods when we walk along and our grief/loss doesn't come anywhere near us.  We are able to focus on other things.  And then somewhere seemingly out of the blue comes a big wave that hits you and knocks you back to your knees.  It could be a fragrance, a familiar face, a song any number of things can trigger a fresh grief reaction--years, even decades after the loss.  Sometimes we choose to ride the waves, to float along with the grief, and to give ourselves fully to experiencing the feelings of our loss.  We just need to remember to watch out for the riptide that can pull us under to a dark place where we can't escape.  When we feel that tug, we must call out for help so that a life line can be thrown to us.  We can also watch out for our friends and family to throw out the life line should they need it or to call for a life guard to come and rescue them.  As for the tsunamis, just like most of us never experience them at the beach, I think most of us never experience them with our grief; however, on occasion a loss does come along that leaves someone brokenhearted and unable recover.  And in those instances, it really doesn't matter how good you are at swimming or how strong you are emotionally or physically, if you are too close to the wave you are swept away by it.  Thankfully, I've not experienced that and I hope that neither you or I ever do.

Blessing of the hands

Earlier this month, we celebrated nurses week.  In many hospitals, this is marked by a blessing of the hands.  We took part in that at my hospital.  Here's the blessing that I wrote that we shared with staff this year:

"In your hands rests a sacred trust.  Your hands are trusted to care.  May they be strong enough to carry burdens, skilled enough to accomplish tasks, firm enough to  lend support, soft enough to give comfort, and open enough to receive blessings.  May the care that your hands provide be a blessing in your life and in the lives of those you touch." 

This is my prayer for each of us.  God has given us different gifts, talents, and responsibilities.  He has trusted us to use them to care for the earth and for one another.  May we be good stewards.

In the Midst of the storm

Alabama was hit hard by tornadoes on April 27, 2011.  We are still in the clean up mode and will be for quite some time.  As a chaplain who covers emergency and trauma patients at a hospital in Birmingham, I have had the opportunity to meet many people who have lost home, livelihood and loved ones secondary to those devastating tornadoes.  It is amazing how many places were destroyed and yet how many lives were spared.  There has been a tremendous outpouring of love and support for one another.  Those of us who weren't directly hit by the tornadoes received fallout--shingles, insulation, a page from a book, a piece of crown molding all appeared in my yard.  Neighbors received a newspaper from Mississippi or mail from Tuscaloosa.  We've all heard stories and have our own stories. 

One thing that has really touched me through this has been the stories of children.  I met a patient at work who gave me permission to share part of her story.  Her home was hit by a tornado and she and her husband and her four year old son were all swept up in the air and over pine trees for a distance of 1-2 football fields.  In preparation for the tornado warning, this mother had put her son's bike helmet on him and wrapped him tightly in her arms.  As they flew through the air she held tightly to her son.  She saw that they were headed towards a tree as they came down to land.  She turned her body so that she hit the tree and was able to gently place her son on the ground.  The little boy walked away and stayed at his grandmother's house while mom and dad both got to spend some time at the hospital.  I met the mom while she was in the ICU (she has gone home now).  The grandmother was there visiting the mother and she shared what her grandson had told her which gave the four year old's perspective of the storm.  "Nana, I know how to fly now."

I saw an ABC News piece where children were being interviewed.  One family had three little girls standing next to what one would assume was the remains of their home.  I would guess the oldest one to be somewhere between 9-11 years old.  The reporter asked them, "How afraid were you?"  The oldest little girl responded, "I was 100 percent afraid."   They interviewed another family of three children in front of a concrete slab that had been the foundation of their home.  The oldest little boy was 5-8 years old.  The reporter asked them, "What did you think was going to happen?"  This little boy responded, "I thought we were going to wake up with Jesus.  I thought we were going to die."  It brought tears to my eyes as I heard him say it.  There was no evidence of fear in his voice.

As I face the various difficulties that life brings my way, how afraid am I, and what do I do with that fear.  I was probably 50 percent afraid with all those tornados everywhere and not knowing if that big one was going to hit the hospital where I work, or choose to come up the valley where I live and obliterate everything that I know.

Jesus told us in scripture that we must be like the little children to inherit the kingdom of heaven.  How fitting that the little boy leads us when he tells us that he thought he would wake up with Jesus.  The disciples in the boat with Jesus became afraid, yet he was able to calm the storm.  When we are trusting in Jesus, it doesn't matter what happens, we will wake up with him.  We may wake up to a world that has been changed, but God has not.  We may wake up, no longer a part of this world but face to face with God.  We may wake up to a new day that seems not that different from the one just past.  No matter what trials come our way, we can face our moments of being anywhere from 1-100 percent afraid with the assurance that everything’s going to be OK because we are going to wake up with Jesus.  And as we learn to trust in God, and God's secure arms around us, we may even come to say in the midst of those storms, "Nana, I know how to fly now."