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I learned of the disappearance of John Kennedy's plane this summer while sitting outside Greenleaf Hut in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It was just before dinner when another hiker mentioned that he had heard this news and wondered if any of the rest of us had heard anything. I shook my head "no" and wondered if we were facing yet another tragic Kennedy death.
As the events of that next week unfolded, my musings on the hut stoop were confirmed. The discovery of the plane wreckage told the world the sad truth: all three passengers were killed instantly when the plane crashed into the sea.
Given the fact that there are tragic, untimely deaths everywhere every day, I found the extensive media coverage of Kennedy's death and the magnitude of grief so many seemed to feel intriguing and revealing. What I found intriguing was the drive for details that the media seemed to need to pursue. What I found revealing was just how many people seemed to have had a genuine affection for John Kennedy, Jr. Their grief was real, as was their affection, even though most had never met him in person. They also displayed heartfelt sadness and empathy for the Bissett family, people they 'knew' only through John Kennedy, Jr.
I reached coverage overload towards the end of the first week.
However, if anything good can come from something so tragic, it is this: when we give ourselves permission to cover the deaths of famous people in detail, and to talk about our feelings on camera to millions we don't know, it helps us grieve the painful losses in our own lives. The truth be known, most of the people grieving John Kennedy Jr.'s death were really grieving their own losses, while also preparing for those they will have in the future. Yes, the news media actually did us a favor, because grieving not only matters, as more of us are learning, it is essential to our health and well-being.
This is why the extensive media coverage of these sad turn of events, including the expressions of sorrow, are heartening to me. Both tell me that grieving no longer seems to be a taboo subject, a sign of weakness, or something to be buried with the bodies of those we have lost. For instance, had it not been for the news media's extensive coverage of John Kennedy's death neither I nor millions of other viewers would have heard a grief therapist explain that, "Grieving is the price we pay for caring. Emotional bonds were designed to be hard to dissolve and grieving is how we dissolve them." Because of this kind of coverage, grieving has become easier and easier to talk about but sadly still remains very difficult to do.
As a pastoral counselor, much of what I help people do is grieve. This means I help them gently dissolve emotional bonds to partners who have divorced them, parents who have hurt them, and people who have died. Many have found it helpful to hear that the pain they are feeling is simply the mirror image of the love they once felt. This also seems to help them ease the anger they often feel towards themselves for having allowed themselves to care in the first place. It also helps people to find meaning when they can't make sense out of their losses.
It usually takes a minimum of 18 months to five years to adjust to a significant loss, and that's if there are no other significant losses during that period. The operative word in this last sentence is "adjust." What often makes grieving so difficult is the belief that we are to "get over" significant losses and just get on with our lives. The bottom line is this: we never get over losing people for whom we cared. Like the loss of a limb, we can only adjust over time to the physical absence of those we have lost.
This is what healthy grieving is all about. Grieving takes time, needs plenty of support, asks for many tears, and requires patience and honesty. It is a process than cannot be rushed nor would we want to rush it because, as Marlo Morgan states in Mutant Message from Forever, "Grief is a form of sadness that is actually a loving bond."
Having a faith that matters helps us to grieve in the ways that matter. For instance, believing that we are spiritual beings having a human experience who return to our spiritual origins upon our death is very comforting to me. Just thinking about the fact that I will see my friend Margaret again comforts me and allows me let her go for now, allows me to dissolve the earthly emotional bond between us in exchange for a heavenly eternal one that will never need dissolving. Also, believing that God offers minimum protection and maximum support for our journeys here helps to explain why God doesn't intervene and stop human suffering. I find people who believe this about God tend to grieve their losses with grace and humility rather than arrogance and indignation.
These are just a few of the many connections between faith matters and grief matters. Knowing that they are connected is part of what makes them both matter so much. Many wounds run deep and forever, but this does not mean we have to live out of them forever. Grieving is a process that turns victims into survivors, that heals our wounds into wisdom, and matures our faith in God into comforting strength. Grieving may be painful, but so is the alternative. If we are going to hurt, why not feel and deal with the pain that leads to healing and wholeness?
Rev. Christine Leslie is the director of Triangle Ministries - A Center for Lesbian & Gay Spiritual Development. She can be reached at (802) 860-7106 or by email.