Reflection

Tomorrow will be the third Hospice support group meeting, and it's going to be the most emotional so far.

Last week was good, in that my group of five (not including me) were most certainly bonding with each other. When we had our break-out group, it didn't seem so much a group- it seemed more like a social club. My group consists of people in their 60's and 70's, two men and three women. They seemed to bond right from the start- especially the two men. Both of the men call me "kiddo", which is kind of cute.

I started to worry over the weekend about my abilities as a facilitator. I take this so seriously and I don't want to hamper anyone's opportunity for growth. I've never been in a group, and I don't know what's 'normal'- so the fact that my group seemed more interested in socializing than working on grief worried me. I wasn't sure if it had something to do with how I was facilitating.

I sent an email to Fearless Leader about my doubts and asked her if she wouldn't mind facilitating my group and allowing me to watch. I explained my fears, and what I observed was going on in my group. She wanted to think about it for a while, but gave me her initial impression:

In the immediate, let me say that often times older people bond socially before they do anything else. They aren’t as intense about things because they’ve already lived so much. Stay tuned – I’ll be back –

That did make me feel better, and deep-down, I guess I can see that sort of thing in my own life. Not that I've experienced what these people are experiencing, but I know that things don't affect me to the degree that they used to.

The next day, she sent me an excerpt from an email sent by one of my group members. This person, in particular, was one that I was most worried about because her grief seems so intense. The email completely eased my mind.

Fearless Leader sent us our lesson plan for tomorrow night with a list of questions to ask our members as we're going through the exercise. This will help me a lot and I now feel much more comfortable in doing this on my own. She asked if I still wanted her to facilitate my group, and I told her no. I felt comfortable now that she has explained a few things, and given us a more in-depth lesson plan. Somehow, she always seems to know exactly what I need.

Up until now, we've not asked people to share their story, explaining that we wanted them to build a level of comfort with us and with each other. Some have spilled bits and pieces, and of course we-as the facilitators- know their background. But they have not shared the story of their loved one's death from start to finish yet.

Everyone was asked to bring a picture of their loved one to show as they talk about their story.

My 'script' (for lack of a better word) for tomorrow is:

#1 Tell us who your loved one was/is (e.g relationship, their name, where they lived, what they did in life.)
#2 Tell us about their death? How did you react?
#3 Try to name one word to describe how life has been since their death.
Everyone will have 5 minutes (or less) to share so please be as clear and brief as you can. Also, please self-check and note how you feel inside while
you talk about your loved one.

I am to keep note of the one word description of how their life has been after death. Then when we all get together as a large group, I will share the words with the entire group- without sharing who said them.

I can anticipate some of the words; lonely, sad, frightening, overwhelming and empty. As I think about it now, I can feel my throat start to tighten. I do my best to not put myself in their shoes, because I couldn't bear the thought- but how will I do tomorrow? I've started developing attachments to these people, even in this short span of time. I worry that I might not be able to convey their feelings without taking them on myself.

I think the 'technique' Fearless Leader shared with us in the beginning will start to come into play now: 1. Visualize a friendly and solid boundary between yourself and the group, and 2. Create and practice a post-group ritual to cleanse your being of the group’s energy.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I was surprisingly calm when I showed up last night to help set up the room. I either had managed to shove all my fears into a far away place, or I had conquered them. I'm still not sure which, even today.

I felt a little knot as the counselor (I'm going to call her Fearless Leader) was ready to do the introductions. I listened to her own introduction and when she said, "grief is my passion. I now that sounds really weird, but it's true" (or something to that effect), I knew exactly what she meant. She and I have talked about this before, because I once told her that I feel energized after making my grief support calls and that I enjoy coming in to volunteer. She acknowledged that I was just as weird as she was.

I gave my introduction last. I acknowledged that I was one of the lucky ones in the group that has never lost a parent, child or husband. Nobody threw tomatoes at me or sent me packing, so I guess it wasn't as big a deal as I was making it out to be.

Fearless Leader talked a bit about grief and the fact that grieving people do not grieve in stages as most people tend to assume. She drew a map (similar to the map I made of when I got lost in the forest last week) showing how you go in and out of stages, even revisiting some of the stages several times.

Then she read the story, "Tear Soup", a book that I helped to sell at the Grief in the Holidays seminar last Winter. It may appear to be a book for children, but like many children's books, there is a strong message in there for adults. The soup is a metaphor for your grieving experience.

Fearless Leader came up with a wonderful exercise for the group to help cement the ideas from the Tear Soup book. She came up with 88 emotions and things (things being pets, family, friends, etc.), printed each on slips of paper, and called them tear soup ingredients. Everyone in the group was given an envelope, asked to choose the 'ingredients' they had in their soup, and place the ingredients into their envelope.

She gave the group about 20 minutes to look through and choose the ingredients, and then we split into our three groups. Again, I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with the group I was facilitating. We sat in a circle and discussed the ingredients in everyone's soup- only if they wanted to share. Interestingly enough, they all wanted to share and it was a great discussion.

The one ingredient that made me sad was regret. One member of the group said that he felt guilty because he 'wasn't a good husband'. I chose to not ask him why he felt that way, because this was a group and that would be intrusive for me to ask him such a thing. Of course, if he continued to explain why he felt that way, that would be different. Perhaps later down the road, he will. Hopefully, the rest of the group will ease his mind.

I quickly took stock of my own marriage in my head and acknowledged that I would not have this regret now, and hopefully will never have this regret. If nothing else, listening to these people (my group consists of widows and widowers), makes me even more determined to never let a day go by that my husband doesn't feel that I adore him beyond anything he could have imagined. I can say for certain that up to this point, I've attained that goal.

The group quickly solidified into a team and I could feel the energy going back and forth between them. I also caught myself feeling things for these virtual strangers.

I felt energized by the end of the evening and sure that I was going to be able to do this work for the next 8 weeks. I will be thrilled to watch the growth of the five people in my care during that time and I suspect will be sad when our relationship ends.

When I got home, I decided to wind down by sitting on my little bench on my back deck. The most wonderful thing happened as I was sitting there. The mama deer and her baby walked in my yard and just stood there for a while looking at me, then proceeded to eat their dinner as if I wasn't there. I felt a rush of something indescribable in that moment. It was the same thing I felt when I originally saw that mama deer the first time we walked into this house. That time I saw her, I felt that it was some sort of 'sign' that I was meant to be in this home. This time I saw her, I felt acknowledged that I was doing exactly what I was meant to do.

It really doesn't get any more clear than that.

I'm not sure the title is really appropriate, because what I'm feeling isn't fear. Maybe it's apprehension? Perhaps by the time I'm done writing this post, I'll know what I'm feeling. Of course, there's the possibility that I won't know what I'm worried about until I'm smack in the middle of the experience.

Tomorrow I'm embarking on something that is making me feel clearly uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that I want to back out of it, but the uncomfortable feeling I get when I'm about to have an extraordinary growth experience.

Tomorrow night will be the first time I will help to facilitate a grief support group. I've been involved in Hospice for over five years now, and in grief and bereavement support for over two years. I've become comfortable in talking on the phone with people who have lost their loved ones - well, as comfortable as one can be in that sort of situation. I mean, it's not comfortable like you'd feel when talking to an old friend or family. What I mean by comfortable is that it doesn't scare me like it used to. I have had enough feedback on my phone conversations to know that I'm being helpful, and that's all that matters to me.

Edited to make a note to my dear friend who I talk with on the phone from time to time... I do NOT consider you a 'grief support' call. You are like talking to an old friend. A sister even!

The uncomfortable feelings started last week when the facilitators met and went over the history of the group participants. There will be three volunteers (including me) and the counselor in this weekly group. The group of 20+ people will meet as one group at first, and then will break into three groups. The volunteers will be the group facilitator and the counselor will be available if needed. We went down the list of people, discussing what the relationship was between the group participant and the person who died. We also discussed how the person died, and some of the stories made my throat tighten as if someone was choking me. I could feel the fear start right at that moment, because I didn't know if I'd be able to lead a group of people who have experienced such heart wrenching things.

I wouldn't be able to get up and walk away.

The counselor showed us how she was splitting up the groups and I held my breath as she told us who would be facilitating which group. I was so afraid of group three because there are experiences in that group that are my worst nightmare. She told us that if there was a group that we felt we couldn't lead, we could decline her suggestion. Rather than do that, I decided to leave the decision to fate. I've learned time and time again that some of the most painful and frightening experiences have turned out to be my best lesson. Thankfully, she assigned me the group that I was hoping I'd get. I've even talked to a couple of the people in the group already during my weekly support calls so that alleviated some of my fear.

The next day, the counselor followed up with the 'lesson' plan for tomorrow night, as well as guidelines for us. In addition to some suggestions for wording in particular situations, she sent us this:

Before the group begins ---
The most important thing you bring to this work is yourself – do your best to leave the cares of your day (personal, professional, etc) behind when you step into the room. Do your best to be rested and well-nourished. Bring your water along and stay hydrated. Wear comfortable clothing.

During the group ---

1. Sit or stand in a relaxed position and make sure you continue to breathe fully and deeply.


2. Visualize a friendly and solid boundary between yourself and the group.


3. Self-monitor your internal reactions to be aware of your own emotional buttons.


4. Make mental notes of things you want to process with your colleagues after the group.

When the group is over ---

1. Make sure to share via discussion or email your observations, suggestions, and concerns with your colleagues. Ask for special debriefing time, if you need it.


2. Create and practice a post-group ritual to cleanse your being of the group’s energy. For example: when you get home take a long, hot shower; release the cares of the group to God through prayer; do something relaxing and life-affirming, e.g., gardening, cleaning up the kitchen, etc. Be completely disengaged from the group before you go to sleep.

And remember -----
“Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief.
Do justly, now.
Love mercy, now.
Walk humbly, now.
You are not obligated to complete the work,
but neither are you free to abandon it.”
~ The Talmud

The counselor (hmmm, I'm going to have to come up with a name for her because I suspect I'll be talking about her a lot) is very supportive and asked me to come see her after I sent her the following email. I was tempted to post the readers digest version, but instead, I'm going to just copy and paste what I wrote to her:

I have two concerns and I was wondering if you had some advice to give me.

1. I do not have any personal grief experiences surrounding death, although I’ve had other things that have given me the experience of deep grief (not something I’d want to bring up). I know that this is something you wanted us to talk about in our introductions and I was wondering how to handle this. I've not had a spouse die, and I've not had children die. My parents and siblings are all still living.
   
   My worry/fear is that people will wonder if I’m able to truly empathize with them if I haven’t really experienced grieving like they have. *I* know I can, but I want them to feel they can trust my empathy.



2. My *biggest* fear is that of showing emotion. I’m good at keeping myself in check, but I know that I’ve had times on the phone where I’ve been brought to (silent) tears. I was able to get up from the phone and walk it off before the next call, but how should that be handled in a group setting? I know that I’m not going to openly bawl my eyes out, but still- I worry. I remember the first Grief in the Holidays seminar I attended. I sat in the back row and the leader was asking people to raise their hand if they’ve experienced certain categories (parent, child, etc.) of death. With every question and raised hand, my throat kept getting tighter and tighter and the tears started spilling because the grief in the room was so thick and I felt like a sponge, soaking it up. It was OK, because I was quite autonomous in a large group and nobody knew me. But this will be a small group, and I'll be noticed.

So, we talked for a while in her office and she assured me that people will not question my empathy- because it's not a contest of who has grieved the most. It's about being present in the situation, something I'm very good at. She also assured me that sometimes she cries and she has to remind herself to back up and distance herself from the situation. She told me that sometimes she has to have conversations with herself like, "this isn't you; your husband is still alive; your parents are still alive", etc.

We talked a little further and she told me that I should really work on visualization for before and after the groups. She said that I'll be walking into a very dark and sad place every Thursday and I need to visualize myself crossing over to that side, just so that I'm also able to visualize walking back over to *my* life. At least that's how I'm interpreting our conversation. I'm trying to imagine how that visualization will go, but suspect that I'll be clueless until I actually experience it.

It's good that the bearded eye-roller is at a business dinner tonight. This allows me to take the time that I need to write and think about tomorrow night.

My first concern is that I am an effective facilitator. I want the people that I'm working with to trust me so they are able to do the work that needs to be done. I don't want to be a roadblock in any way, shape or form. I suppose if I am to be honest, I am also a little worried about being able to leave the emotion behind me at the end of the evening. I won't know until I'm in the thick of it though.

In writing this out, I don't think I've really come up with one thing I'm worried about. None of it is an overwhelming fear- it's a bunch of very manageable fears. Fears that I suspect will slowly fade away each week.

I hope that by week eight, I'll report that I had nothing to worry about and I'm ready to take this on again.

Here are the rules..... List ten (10) things you want to say to people but do not state who these people are.

1. I wish you knew me as well as you think you do.


2. When our breakup happened, I thought I'd never recover. Then I thought I'd hate you forever. Now? Meh. Nothing at all.


3. Nobody feels sorry for you, so please quit with the drama. It’s really annoying.


4. The biggest regret of that relationship is that he controlled me to the point where I didn't feel free to communicate with you- with anyone, really- as often as I wanted to. If I'd of known the remorse I feel now, even more than 10 years later, I'd of ended that relationship if only for the sole purpose of talking with you more often during the last year of your life. Forgive me.


5. I’m just waiting for you to get caught, and I’m tired of biting my tongue.


6. I wish you could look in the mirror and see the beautiful person that I see.


7. I wish that you would just cut off that relationship already.


8. I wish I had met you before you died.


9. You’re changing and I don’t like what I see.


10. I’ve come to the point where I can’t imagine living my life without you and that scares me. A lot.

What are your 10 things? Either leave them in my comments or post on your blog (but let me know you did it, please!)

I stole this one from Momma K over at Petroville.. She didn’t tag me, but I found it intriguing!

I AM: Pollyanna incarnate
I WANT: more time to spend in my gardens
I WISH: that there was no injustice, hunger or violence in this world. (seriously, I do- I’m not even running for Miss America!)
I HATE: Watching my body grow older
I MISS: my sons, especially the little versions.
I FEAR: growing old or sick and being unable to care for myself
I HEAR: my husband giving direction to the guy installing the projector in the entertainment room. I am so excited about it, because I know he’ll be so happy when it’s finished.
I WONDER: how many grandchildren I’ll have and how much time I’ll get to spend with them (no pressure boys, seriously!)
I REGRET: nothing. I believe that everything that I’ve experienced has made me the person I am today. I happen to really like that person.
I AM NOT: judgmental. Well, I lied. I do tend to judge those that hurt others emotionally or physically.
I DANCE: whenever I feel like it. Yeah, it has raised some eyebrows, but I’m hoping it’ll land me a table-dancing job one day. (KIDDING!)
I SING: CONSTANTLY. Even at work.
I CRY: when I hear the national anthem. Yeah- I’m one of those. I also cry when I see people overcome with joy.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: as confident as I appear.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: meals for my appreciative husband. The fact that he appreciates it makes me want to do it even more. Hmmmm… I wonder if that’s been his ploy all along....
I WRITE: to truly understand how I feel about something. I also write so my family will know who I am and what I’m about, since I’m not very forthcoming verbally.
I CONFUSE: directions. I’m forever getting lost
I NEED: to be more forgiving of myself
I SHOULD: drink more water and take my vitamins regularly
I START: my new Hospice volunteer job on Wednesday!
I FINISH: hardly any craft projects that I start
I TAG: anyone who will do this! Let me know so I can read yours!