Newsroom

Let’s talk

Last weekend, Bereaved Families of Ontario – Midwestern Region (BFO-MR) participated in an expo for families and children. We were personally invited to attend, and frankly flattered we were asked. Let’s be honest – grief support alongside Marshall from Paw Patrol with an Erick Traplin soundtrack is a bit of an unexpected combination.

With a few public events under my belt now, I’ve started to anticipate what may happen. And as I sat at our information table and watched families avert their eyes from our banner or hurriedly walk by before I could even say hello, I gave a lot of thought to why people react the way they do.

I tend to see two distinct reactions at these types of events. Some people avoid us “like the plague” – there’s a visible flinch and a quickened pace to pass us by. I’ve even experienced someone reading our banner and starting to cry; apologetically hurrying past. On the flipside, others feel compelled to share a story with us about someone, or the many people, whose death they are grieving.

I’m reassured that for the second group of people we can provide that outlet (even if it’s at the mall during a volunteer fair), but I’m particularly intrigued about the reactions of the first group. It’s the same reaction I often get when I tell people I work at BFO-MR. There tends to be a startled, even shocked look and an awkward silence that is usually followed by me trying to change the subject to make them feel more comfortable. And I’m not proud of falling into that trap.

After all if I don’t set the example, who will?

Please know, I do understand. When families are attending a Healthy Living Expo or wandering the mall, the last thing they want to contemplate is the possibility of their child dying or to have their own grief brought to the surface. But what about the people who are struggling and really do need help? I’m sure there were people in the crowd this weekend that could have benefitted from knowing what we do, but those conversations never happened. I’m hopeful that those who passed us by will remember our name, and if the time comes, they will be able to find us.

My work has me wishing that people were more comfortable talking about death. That it didn’t continue to be a taboo subject that is shied away from in the classroom, around the kitchen table and yes, even at the mall. There has been such amazing progress made in the fight against mental health stigma, where people who are suffering finally have a voice and feel like they can be open and honest with what they are dealing with.

So let’s talk. Let’s talk about how much you miss the person in your life that has died. Share your story. Say his or her name. Let’s talk about how much grief sucks. Let’s talk about how we’re feeling – even if (especially if) we feel like we’re going crazy. Let’s talk about the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between.

The only way we are going to normalize the grief experience is if we talk about it.

So please. Start a conversation. And if you’re not sure who to talk to, find me at the next event. I’ll gladly listen.

Jaime Bickerton, Executive Director