Puerto Rico is the best kept secret in the world and where Bienvenidos truly means “welcome” in every sense of the word. The Puerto Rican people are warm, friendly and passionate. They not only embrace you with their arms and generous kisses, but with their compassionate heart.

The island is only 35 miles wide by 100 miles long yet is home to over 4 million people, a country approximately the size and population of Connecticut.  Although predominantly middle class, there are some caches of illegal aliens and drug lords spurred by our recession which contributes to nearly 1000 murders per year, mostly of young adults.  With the high per capita of cars on the small island, there are also many deaths as the result of car accidents.

I am a bereaved father and a member of The Compassionate Friends (TCF), and I have dedicated my life to serving the bereaved parents, grandparents, and siblings of children who have died too soon. I now travel the country conducting workshops for TCF and other groups and organizations that help the bereaved process their loss. Losing a child at any age at anytime in your life is a devastating reality to bear and a life long journey of struggling to survive the unimaginable.

In 2002, I published my first book “Letters to My Son, a journey through grief.” It was at that time I started speaking and presenting workshops for the bereaved.

The first TCF national conference I attended was in Hollywood CA in 2004. It was there that I met Janette who had lost her son Carlos as I had also lost to death my son Kelly. She attended the conference with other members of “El Amigos Campaciones,” who came all the way from Puerto Rico.

Janette attended my first workshop and we became fast friends. I walked with her on the annual walk to remember held on Sunday, the last day of the conference. On the walk, I helped to hold the banner of deceased children of Puerto Rico, with chapter leader Nivia, her dear friend Mercedes and others, and a bond was made forever. Since that time whenever I have attended a conference, I look forward to seeing my friends from Puerto Rico, brought together by the most unlikely and most feared of life’s tragedies, the death of a child.

It has now been 6 years since that first workshop in California and I decided to travel to Puerto Rico with my wife to conduct a volunteer workshop entitled the “20 Faces of Grief,” visit my friends, and relax a little in paradise.  Eileen and her husband Amaury are local members of the group who invited us to stay in their home while we were on the island and were the most gracious and congenial of hosts. We got to know their beautiful daughter Etline and their son in heaven, Jose, who had been murdered.

Only knowing three years of high school Spanish, I attempted to present a workshop to some 60 Latinos who had lost a child in their lives, most of them who did not speak English. With the help of Nivia, Eileen, Amaury and Janette who translated what I could not to the crowd and then in reverse translation back to me, it was a tremendous success.

We danced in spirit. We spoke from our wounded hearts and our struggling souls. We communicated well despite any so called language barriers and some powerful magic happened in that room. I am happy to say “The Faces of Grief ,” the portraits in pencil that I created, helped in that process.

The pain of the loss of a loved one crosses all barriers of religion, language and politics. If we allow ourselves to feel the loss, ours and that of those whom we connect with who have experienced a similar loss, we form a deep emotional bond of empathy; we are on the same page.

Seeing that our mutual grief extends far beyond the routinely accepted, simplistic and misapplied 5 stages of grief, we find strength and camaraderie in knowing it is much more complex than that.  When we lose a child in our lives, we are changed forever and we find ourselves on a life long journey of discovery, one we could never have envisioned but one we have to learn to accept.

I believe there are no predictable linear stages in processing the death of loved one. It is a series of steps negotiated one at a time, each one taking as long as it takes to reach the next; no timetable; no shortcuts; no false expectations; no failures; just one step at a time.

As in climbing stairs (S.T.A.I.R.S.), we take each step one at a time, moving on to the next when we are ready, willing, and able.  Each step takes a long as it takes and is different for everyone. Whether is a long term illness that took our loved one’s life, a sudden horrible unexpected accident, or some other tragedy, we who are left behind will have to climb this stairway.

I have experienced sudden death when my twin sister and her two boys were killed in an auto accident and I was propelled into instant shock and grief.  My son battled cancer for two years. I witnessed him endure a lot of pain much of that time, that did not prepare me for his death. When he died, I was swept into shock and grief as well.

Anticipatory grief is a myth; there is no such thing.  When we maintain hope, we never accept or prepare for death when it strikes. We cannot anticipate the pain of separation no matter how it happens.  Sudden death and long term illness are two side roads that merge onto the same main road of survival to accept the unacceptable. You love hard, you grieve hard, period; your own grief is the hardest to bear.

The 1^st step is Shock. Our loved one dies; we are in reactionary disbelief and we are numb head to soul. This is how we are able to choose a casket, sign papers, read sympathy cards and publicly share our grief with so many.  We are in a primal stage of survival, we function as an automaton and we accomplish the impossible: We bury or cremate the body of our loved one.

The 2^nd step is Trauma. This is the ensuing reality of our loss and our struggle to comprehend it and weave it into the fabric that is our daily life. This may be the step where the bereaved linger the longest. When we return to work, by rote go through the holidays and struggle everyday to cope. Every morning when we open our eyes after our fitful night’s sleep and we again sword fight with denial and disbelief. The light of a new day beckons us to rejoin the world that we are reticent to embrace.  Moving forward, functioning at all seems we are dishonoring our loved one. We know there is no going back; we do not want to move forward so we stay where we are for as long as it takes.

The 3^rd step is Acceptance. This is the most powerful step in moving forward in processing our loss; when we accept the loss has taken place we can then make plans for the future as nebulous as it may seem; this is not an easy admission to make but a crucial one for our survival.  Accepting the reality of the loss is not forgetting or letting go, its living with the loss and accepting its collateral damage to our future.

The 4^th step is Introspection/Insight. This is where we look deep within ourselves to try and find ourselves. We question our faith and seek to find the “meaning of life” in the depths of our sorrow. We use the tools of intuition, gut feelings and prayer to access the world inside and out in a different light of perception. The more we know, the more we know what we don’t know. We look to find answers to the whys and the cries of our wounded soul… and are finally willing to hear the answers.

The 5^th step is Reinvestment/Rebuilding. This is where we take charge of our journey and find creative ways, and healthy ways to process our loss. This is what I call “Proactive Grieving,” where in earnest we attempt to reconstruct the foundation of a life that has been shattered and try to regain the joy back which is our birthright.

We become Intentional Survivors. This is where we can make a difference in the world and fulfill our personal destiny. When we honor our loved ones life by creating a legacy in their name the world is then enriched instead of diminished.

The 6^th step is Serenity and true peace. This is not always possible in this world, loss or no loss in our lives, but yet it is attainable. It may take years, even decades to reach or it creeps into our lives on the journey itself…when we are caught by surprise to see the face in the mirror is smiling. Miracles do happen…believe.

Peace, love n light

Mitch

Tags: grief, hope