It is said and for the most part believed that we ,as individuals feel or experience similar events in a unique way. Yet in grief we share a pain that is so profound it MUST be unique yet we can empathize with others without going in depth. We can “connect” at a level that can only be described as inherent.
My life was shattered on April Fools Day 2000 when I arrived home to hear my youngest baby boy (20) had died of an accidental overdose of cocaine in British Columbia,(at the time I was in Saskatchewan). I spent the next year going to group and individual counseling and felt best?worst when able to share with another bereaved.
But 16 months later I was told my oldest and only remaining baby boy (24) had also died of an overdose. Even my Counselor had tears in his eyes when I walked in his office. He simply extended his arms in a combination of supplication or helplessness.
It is a little better, I am coping and no longer fluctuate between killing myself and killing those whom I could find a way to blame. I pray a lot but find most comfort in others ho share my loss, for misery truly loves company. I have done seminars on grief and have received excellent reviews due I think not in the scientific, empirical data, but instead on a base level.
I have learned one truism… there is no wrong/right way to grieve,nor is there a time line that needs to be followed. I want to end this with the story of scattering the ashes of my first Son. I poured the ashes into a stream he and I used to hunt and hike near. As I stood up a Doe walked out about 50 feet from me with a fawn.
As I watched in a stupor she nodded once, turned her head to nudge her baby in the side and calmly followed her fawn back from when they came.
In hindsight most people would say coincidence, but I choose to believe it was something more,a sign that my baby boy was in good hands. In grief we grasp at things to survive another day. I think that incident saved my life.
