Even the Hard Stuff
By Pat Schwiebert, R.N.
Last night at our support group one of the parents spoke of Father’s Day and how their family decided they wanted to do something special, but something that didn’t include being around people. After a bit of research, a hike in a very remote site was decided upon, a place where it was highly unlikely that they would bump into other hikers.
So off they went. It was hard. It was easy. It was unfamiliar. It was a bit daunting. After awhile one wanted to turn back. The other encouraged this family member to stay the course. Not long after the table turned and the other was ready to call it quits. Funny how things can change in an instant.
They were going down when they wanted to go up. They couldn’t see the trail ahead. Some of the terrain was overgrown with forest and only a hint of daylight was evident. They weren’t sure they would ever reach their planned destination. But in spite of difficulties they encountered they continued on helping each other when one got weary of the unfamiliar journey. And then it appeared: a view filled with wonder and awe, not exempt from risks, but worth the hard work.
Grief couldn’t be described any better than that. Life couldn’t be described any better than that. We have never been on this road before, but we have been on many other unfamiliar roads through our life journey and we were okay. This one seems a bit more treacherous and filled with peril but we’re not going to turn back, rather we are doing what we don‘t think we can do.
It’s a wonderful thing about support groups. You can talk about these trips through grief we are on and others in the group actually enjoy hearing the travelogue. They can see themselves on a similar road. You can’t see it when you are on the road, but when you stop and look back for a moment or two it all becomes clear.
Grief is good. Even the hard stuff. Life is good. Even the hard stuff.