Journeying Through Loss

“People around us don’t understand grief unless they’ve been through it themselves.”
H. Norman Wright

Kirk Neely’s son Erik died suddenly. On a Tuesday evening he spoke to his son on the phone. Early the following morning his daughter in law called to tell them Erik was on the way to hospital, and asking Kirk and his wife to get there as quickly as they could. Halfway there, they received the call every parent dreads. In his book When Grief Comes Kirk wrote “I had been through valleys of grief before, but this one was deeper, longer, and darker than any other.”

Grief is often referred to as a season, and it seems as though this season has come around again, sliding in alongside autumn and being somehow emphasised by the golden colours of the dying leaves, and the promise of austere weather and short cold days ahead.

Perhaps, since I walked my own valley a few years ago, I am more aware of the grief of others than I would have been before. I think H Norman Wright’s comment is true. When we’ve grieved deeply, we understand better the pain that others are going through.

This time, the grieving is not mine personally, but the loss and pain affecting close friends. One recently lost her father, less than a year after losing her closest friend. Another has lost, only last week, her dearest friend of many years. Maybe it’s my friends’ loss which makes me feel so sad for Emma Egging, the brave and proud wife of Flt Lt Jon Egging who died just last month when his Red Arrow Hawk aircraft crashed. Seeing her speak of her husband on TV on Sunday at the Great North Run, and watching the Red Arrows fly their own tribute overhead brought a lump to my throat.

Grief is a strange thing. It is not linear, and doesn’t follow a prescribed pattern. The ‘big things’ can be faced and got through. The small things trip you up, sometimes months or years later. We know these things, but we don’t really understand them until we’ve been there. And when we find our friends there, the challenge is how to support and care for them while they walk through their own dark valleys.

I chat to my bereaved friends, but I also like to send them things. Perhaps something small which I know they will like, and often a book. Kirk Neely’s book is not the latest book out, but it is a very personal walk through the grieving process. It’s written in a way which makes reading it easy. Like grief itself this is not a linear book. You don’t have to start at the beginning and work to the end. You can dip in and out. Kirk says he tried to write it “remembering how difficult it is to read when your heart is broken and your eyes are blurred with tears”. It is a book of comfort, of encouragement, and of hope. In short, highly recommended.