"They'll Suck You Into Their Club"

A discussion about the loneliness of grief and the connections formed between people who share a similar loss.....

Grief makes people uncomfortable. It scares them. They fear it is contagious, and they want to avoid it. An Austin Texas woman recalls the 'dear friend' who took her aside at her son's funeral and warned, "Don't hang around with the grievers. They'll suck you into their club and never let you out." The admonition was chilling. Who wants to be vacuumed into a society of perpetual sorrow? But it turns out that the club is not just a bunch of chest-beating, hair pulling, half-humans with hollowed cheeks and haunted eyes. It's people who gravitate to one another because, as the Texas woman later discovered, 'no one else understands.' It's also one large group of people; men and women of all ages, races, religions, economic levels, and geographic locales.

Many of these parents would agree that grief's dreary reputation may be well-earned. But they might also say that grieving is not always an entirely melancholy experience. This is not a club whose anthem is "Oh woe is me." By the same token, it's not exactly a cruise ship that any sane person would eagerly sign up for. No one in this club would pretend that mourning is a fine form of recreation. We do not cheerily walk up to each other and chirp, "Good mourning!". But what almost anyone in the club will agree on is that grief can integrate itself into a person's life. It does not have to be the enemy.

Not that grief is suppose to be your best friend either. But faced squarely, it demystifies almost any other demon in life. Facing the worst allows us to re-categorize things that used to seem horrible.

Being forced into this club allowed me to talk to others who had also been forced. I began to notice there were more people in the world who belonged. Sometimes they were seated next to me in an airplane, sometimes at dinner parties or sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic's shop waiting for their car. They were in so many places, looking remarkably like normal people, but bearing a special level of awareness.

When we meet we never spew out those vapid phrases: "There, there, it will be all right"...or "At least you had her for as long as you did." We know by  intuition and experience that 'it' will never be 'all right." We know it couldn't possibly be better this way.

Interestingly the feelings we have are often intangible to others. Even experts in the field of 'grief' know less about the tundra of this type of grief. Incredibly, we occasionally smile or even laugh at the cruel absurdity of what many in the 'helping field' of counseling offer us.

In this club we begin to take stock of the lessons that the mourning process can impart. This is when we begin to understand that while the death of a child will never ever make sense, we may begin to comprehend the constructive aspects of grief. We may alter our view of life, re-calibrate our assessment of what 'is' and what 'is not' real trouble.

-That excerpt was given to me at an  meeting of grieving parents. I wish I had the source of this passage, but I do not. Unfortunately the source was not listed. -Marsha

Additional Articles;
Rock On: Discusses the purpose of our lives.
Watching My Parents Grieve: Looking at the death of a child through the eyes of a sibling.