Camp

To someone driving by it would have looked like a typical camp with kids, swimming, cheering, ice cream, etc. and it was, but there was one difference, the camp was specifically for bereaved kids. Kids ranging in ages 5-14 who lost a loved one; moms, dads, uncles, aunts, "papas"...the list goes on an on. For three days I had the privilege of volunteering at this camp and learning much from these kids.

Bowls of Hope

We did different type of activities to permit the kids the forum to express their feelings in healthy ways and in a safe place where people were not going to say "stop crying" or "it's going to be okay" or all those things that are meant to be well intended comments, but to someone who is grieving, doesn't necessarily help. Sometimes you just need to let the tears fall and feel the hurt or to have somebody really listen and not try to fix the unfixable.

Tshirts...unique, just like us & our grief!



Anger Collage (after)

Anger Collage (before)

The last day was the most emotional for all and I was surprised how all the kids embraced the solemnity of the ceremony. The kids were each given a flower and rice paper and could write a message in honor of the deceased on the rice paper. "I love you", "I miss you"...those were common notes written excentuated by hearts. The messages were tied to the flowers. While writing the notes one little girl looked at me and asked me where my flower was. This kind of took me by surprise, because I was certain to not make this camp a therapy session for me and bring my death experiences into it, unless I was asked directly, which I hadn't been until this point. But the timing of her question just threw me. It was a heavy moment, heavy day. Maybe it was the rain, or the impending thought that this was our "last day" together or just the overall exhaustion that comes with grief work. But we were all feeling it, in our own unique ways.

As the drum began to sound we all lined up with our flowers. The drummer  stood in the front and lead us as we walked in procession to the river to the beat of the drum. We walked in silence. I couldn't help but look at the group of kids I had been working with the past couple of days...seven & eight year olds, how young.  I imagined them with this same stoic stance in the funeral procession they walked months, or years ago for their loved one with their untied shoelaces and runny noses and wondered how they did it. I felt foolish for how many times I felt "sorry" for myself and my losses after hearing their stories of death. I have a mom and dad. I have a brother and sister and did know my older sister for 30 years before she died. My nieces and nephews got to know their uncle and will remember him. But these kids won't all necessarily be able to say all of these things or have all of these opportunites, memories. I felt such a deep sadness for them while at the same time a new appreciation for life, my life, the gifts God has blessed me with, including the time and memories I have had with those who have died and will treasure always.

Our walk ended when we reached the river bank. We all stood around the river and it began to pour. Some people noticed, others didn't care, so intent on fulfilling the mission of honoring their loved one. One by one the kids were called up and as their loved one's name was announced they tossed their flower into the river. Two of the kids in my group broke down afterwards. They were holding on to me, I asked if they wanted to be held, and they nodded. I embraced them and didn't tell them it was going to be okay, but instead told them to go ahead and cry. We just kind of huddled there, one big mass hugging in the rain.

Flower Ceremony

We walked back to camp and gathered for lunch. Camp ended on a cheerful note...kids are amazing! After lunch each group worked together to plan and then perform different skits with a grief theme. Again, I was touched by the creativity and ways the kids were able to express their feelings and their willingness to share.  Before we left to go home it was time for ice cream and cotton candy!!

What I feel like I will remember the most from this experience is how much these kids inspire me in my own grief journey and life journey. Talking to the kids in my own group naturally stirred up some thoughts of my sister and husband's death. Cathy and Mike would have been around the age of some of their parents or uncles/aunts when they died and some of the circumstances surrounding their deaths were similar so hearing it from a kid's perspective was interesting to me and made me think of my own nieces and nephews and even the "what-ifs" if Mike and I had had children. Watching the kids at camp and their resilience though, their ability to talk and cope and even help each other was touching.  I felt extremely comfortable working with bereaved kids, and this further solidified my desire to continue to explore this area of ministry.

As I wrote when I began this blog; I'm not sure where this journey is headed, but each day I find myself learning and growing so much; in all facets...about myself, the world and about my faith too. I feel so thankful and blessed for these opportunities.