Grief Group

“Every great loss demands that we choose life again. We need to grieve in order to do this. The pain we have not grieved over will always stand between us and life… Grieving allows us to heal, to remember with love rather than pain. It is a sorting process. One by one you let go of the things that are gone and you mourn for them. One by one you take hold of the things that have become a part of who you are and build again.” — Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D.

For the past two months, it was a privilege for me to sit in on the Bloedel Grief Group, which has been co-led by my friend, Robin Gaphni and retired psychiatrist, Dr. Ted Rynearson. After four years of running the program, Robin and Ted are training me and two other facilitators from IVC’s Compassionate Companions program as there is a great need to expand the group. Currently, this eight-week program is offered three times a year, but there is a waiting list of grieving individuals who hope to enroll in the group. The need for grief support is great.

Based on Ted’s decades-long work with grief, the program uses a restorative model. During the structured eight weeks, the members follow an agenda of grief education, retelling stories of the deceased and the individual’s relationship with them, coping strategies, support systems, and a positive focus on the individual’s future goals and life purpose. This approach disregards the classic stages of grief, typically described by Kubler-Ross, which may appear simultaneously or in no logical order. Rather, this group highlights these two aspects: 1) Who the individual was before the death; 2) Who the individual is now. While there is an assumption that there is no cure for grief, the program strongly emphasizes the resiliency of the individual.

I especially appreciated another unique aspect of the program. Ted places an emphasis on reestablishing a relationship with the deceased, despite their absence. He calls it “presence in absence.” As I wrote about in A Soul Lives On, one of my main coping strategies has been discovering Hannah’s presence after her death. Messages come from those who have died in a number of ways - dreams, signs in nature, letters to and from the beloved, or other more direct communications. Despite the variety of religious beliefs represented in the group I observed, there was an overall acceptance of trying to maintain a relationship with the person who is no longer present on earth.

Not only is this group a valuable resource for those in grief, but it takes place in a beautiful, healing setting – Bloedel’s Japanese Teahouse. With windows and skylights looking out to nature, comfortable furniture, and an offering of tea and chocolates, members found themselves relaxing into the space. After the first week or two of anxiety and some fear around sharing one’s deepest pain and hardest memories with mostly strangers, the group that I witnessed quickly became a cohesive unit. By the final week of the group, members encouraged the tears and the tissue box was readily passed. Vulnerability was an essential element of the program, which was difficult at first for some. But the rewards of receiving comfort and understanding from the other group members seemed invaluable.

When I first asked Robin what the purpose of the grief group was, she responded, “To hold space.” Holding space means creating a trusting, safe, nonjudgmental, and empathetic environment where individuals feel free to share their innermost thoughts and feelings. In this space the leaders’ thoughts, feelings, and memories very much take a back seat to the person who is grieving. I observed the individual members gradually support one another within the container of the group or its activities with less and less intervention needed by the leaders. By week eight, the group practically ran itself while the leaders sat and listened. This group of eight strangers forged an intimate, healing circle.

Twelve and a half years since Hannah died, I began this group well down the road in my own grief. So, I was surprised that some of the members heart-wrenching stories affected me as much as they did. I cried through many of the commemorations of the living loved ones and the narratives of their dying. These stories were told through pictures, videos, song and meaningful objects. Inevitably, I was brought to tears during a showing of photos when they were accompanied by music, a weakness of mine.

Much like a memorial or celebration of life where a person’s gifts and strengths are spoken about, these restorative retellings of the lives of their loved ones made me consider the life I am leading. Am I living a meaningful life? Does it have purpose and connection? Am I using my God-given talents to their fullest?

Certainly grief work is part of my purpose. I am honored to be invited to facilitate the grief groups at Bloedel, especially with co-leaders whom I admire and love so much. This “free” support service is surely a gift to our community. And not just for Bainbridge Island, but folks come from the entire Puget Sound region to participate. It’s a testament to the great need for grief support, as well as to the program that Ted and Robin have created.