guest post by c. deutchman

a reflection on group support written on 4.23.23

My grief support group is run by Barri Leiner Grant, and under the name on the email it reads, “Chief Grief Officer”. I registered through Yoga Loft, taking Dad’s lead and saying yes to things that came my way in the awful haze after Mom died. Getting the date confused on my calendar, I missed the meeting but saw in small print that Barri offered one-on-one Zoom meetings so I registered online. I anticipated a serious discussion with this man and CGO.

I pictured certificates on the wall behind him. Instead, Barri greeted me. Smiling, wearing something soft and floral, pink furnishings in the background with an enormous butterfly rendering and heart art. It was like I had walked back in time to the teenage bedroom of my friend Di, who had wall-to-wall carpeting and all things rainbow. Barri and I spoke for over an hour. I cried while she listened, holding space for my grief and offering tools. So many tools. You can journal in the morning, first pages, pen on paper so the mind can process the loss. She recommended books, and I bought and read them all: The Light that Remains, Conversations in Grief, The Book of Awakenings, and more. She told me about “group” and encouraged me to join. That was November, and it hadn’t even been a month since mom died.

I joined her “Living With Loss” group support in January and was asked to introduce myself, say the name of the person who brought me that evening and how I felt upon arrival. Dad was with me for the first one and gave me the strength to show up. The ladies are still talking about him, his engagement, openness and warmth. Every time I made introductions, I broke down, unable to say her name. It was too difficult to comprehend that I was there because she was not here. When group ended, I remarked it felt like we were on a plane ride together sharing deepest thoughts and were about to deplane. That was January-it had been 3 months.

I joined again for a second session, even though that meant joining after yoga and eating dinner at 9pm. Still crying upon arrival and announcing why I was there. Sometimes community nourishes more than food. I recounted how I broke down on the 5-month anniversary of mom’s death, sobbing nonstop and all day. The unbelievable, inconceivable, and inevitable had happened. The group nodded their understanding, no explanations needed, just radical acceptance.

The other night I shared my daughter Ella’s poem, “Questions about Grief,” where she asks such heartbreaking questions like, “How long will my mom be sad? Forever? And is there something beautiful in that? “ I could hear Debra’s sobs along with mine and then she remarked on how much we have in common. Leah thanked me in her kind way, and everyone praised Ella. Group holds each other with such tenderness, with Barri at the center of it all. Smiling upon our arrival, encouraging us to bring a boast and then supporting with words like “so well bragged”. Providing prompts, opening up space for our grief

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Approaching the six-month mark, Barri and I finally meet face to face. A bakery with an afternoon treats of tea and cookies. She’s tiny, like me, and larger than life with wisdom, compassion, and generosity. I told her about my grieving brother, and she gave me the contact of her teacher, Claire Bidwell Smith, in California. I gave her my yoga teacher’s number. We could have talked all afternoon, but my work beckoned. We promised to keep in touch, and I know we will. I’m filled with gratitude to Barri, and the universe, who often sends us people at just the right time.

end note: My heart swelled when I received this journal entry that CD asked if she could share. She read it to the group on on of our final sessions. We will begin our next group soon. If you are interested in more information about The Memory Circle, and to meet her in person, she will be there again too.