About Selah: Center for Grief and Loss

I’d like to share the story of my son, David. It’s hard for anyone to imagine that one day they may lose a child. That day came for me in 2009. Following, I entered into the unknown, the abyss of grief.

What does grief do? It howls like a wild animal! The journey of grief is foreign. It is like hearing a language that you are unable to understand and you seek out others who can understand the language. Initially, one flounders like a fish without water, this feeling of being without air lasts for quite a while.

Early on, David struggled with a depressed mood and appeared to soothe his low mood with alcohol and drugs. The stigma and shame of substance abuse and depression arose with some family members. This judgment is difficult in grief. David, an avid reader, and writer developed an array of words to describe and explore topics. Thus, he offered varied opinions to conversations, man,  I miss them. Take a sense of humor, add sarcasm, laughter, and mix it with a heart of gold and you find my boy. Losing him at the tender age of 28 was not something I imagined could or would ever happen.

In the early moments of grief, each memory is replayed. Longing and yearning for additional dialogue, memories replayed of evenings chatting while drinking a cup of tea, praying his death was but a bad dream, waiting to wake up.

Family members around you potentially could become impatient with your grieving journey. They offer what they perceive to be well-intentioned advice, “Get over it. Appreciate the family you have!” 

While other family members allowed the wild animal to howl! They connected in meaningful, but not confining ways. They allowed me to hold grief tenderly, to squash grief, or to scream at grief. We are all different, we don’t grieve the same, we are individuals. However, we all need the love and support of people who absolutely care for us when those we thought would be in the category opt-out.

Hope is needed along the grief journey. It can be found with others who love us. It can be found with our God, our Allah, our father. Grief tests us while hope saves us. Hope creates a rainbow where one is able to once again see color in their lives. For me, that came through a variety of things: a support group, beautiful friends, wonderful colleagues, readings, music and meditation, a marriage that believed in each other, others’ stories and their journey, and finally, through choosing life.

Now, twelve years later, my passion has become spreading care and witnessing others’ stories as was done for me. This work has allowed me to honor my son through these connections.