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| Bryce Canyon, June 2007 |
My Dad grew up in the early 1900’s as the son of a sharecropper. He had a pretty good singing voice and loved
old Hank William’s tunes. One of the
songs that I remember him singing was
“Lonesome Valley.” The chorus
goes like this.
You gotta walk that
lonesome valley
And you gotta walk it
by yourself
Nobody else can walk
it for you
You gotta walk it by
yourself.
by Anonymous
This song first appeared in print in “Folk Songs of the
American Negro” in 1907. It was recorded
but never released in 1924 by David Miller.
It became popular during the early years of the depression when the Carter
Family recorded it in 1930 and became a
staple of the radio where I am sure my Dad heard it.
This old spiritual is a classic song of lament. It grew out of a suffering heart that had no
choice but to share its hurt. These are
songs sung together by sisters and brothers in hard the journey. They are not pleas for help or songs of
conviction about overcoming our trial and tribulations. These
songs offer up the hidden currents of grief that breakthrough into our community
living. They invite others to take our
hand and walk with us. They invite
companions to share our aloneness. The
lament creates the possibility for connection.
It invokes empathy and solidarity in the core of our shared
humanity.
It is often said that grief is a lonely journey, and no one
can make that walk for us. We have to do
it by ourselves. Our grief is
ours. It is unique to us in this moment
of a particular loss. The companion cannot
take away our sorrow or change the loss that we have experienced. So, what does a companion to do? How can a companion help us when we are
feeling alone and vulnerable, lost in the wilderness of grief? What does a companion have to offer the
grieving spirit?
The companion helps to make our grief bearable as we take
one step after another through that lonesome and shadowed valley.
Who is this companion?
A companion is someone with whom we share a special
relationship. The word companion comes
from two old Latin words, com and panis.
Com means “with” and panis means “bread.” A companion is someone with whom you share
your bread. They are people who gather
with us as we are fed and sustained in life.
In the middle ages, the English used the word to refer to people with
whom we travel, as in a pilgrimage or important journey. Later on, it was used to refer to people with
whom we shared our day to day living. In
recent years, it has been used to refer to someone who is paid to be with an
elderly or ill person.
But I am using it as one who is a spiritual companion, one
who sees us as we are, freed from any bias of need other than to be with
us. They share more than our daily
bread, they share with us in the bread of life itself.
A companion understands us and grief well enough to simply
let us grieve. A companion in grief is
likely someone who is no stranger to that lonesome valley. They feel grief with us. But they know that they cannot feel our
grief. They respect our grief because
they know, by experience, that no one can truly know or carry our hurt for us. A companion is present to us without trying
to take our grief from us.
A companion stands with us in our tears, outbursts, and dark
moments in grief. They respect our
hurting and offer a shoulder to lean on when our lives buckle under the weight
of the pain. They are not frightened by
the strong emotions and powerful currents that sweep through our mind and
soul. They understand and respect our
need to feel these things but do not leave us stranded in the middle of that
emotional tempest. They are within reach
when we need them. But they will not
pull us onto the boat until we are ready.
A companion is not driven to “fixit.” They are in the moment with us. A companion does not carry a box of tissues
around to wipe away every tear that may appear.
They know and respect the value of tears. They understand that tears do not need to be
fixed. In grief, there is no fixing. They do, however, carry a handkerchief in
their purse or back pocket, so that when we reach for something to helps us with
our tears, they are ready. They do not
offer endless advice on “fixing our problems.”
They do offer a sounding board that we can use to bounce ideas and
perceptions.
A companion has our back when others rush in to “make us
feel better.” When Job faced is own
grief, three people showed up to “help” him.
They tried to talk him out of his grief.
There are a great many of “Job’s Friends” around and they are ready to
tell us to not grieve. They do not
respect the depth and breadth of grief.
They speak out of their experience and may tell us that the
person died is in heaven. They speak out
of their own grief experience and tell us what they did to “get over it.” They remind us that “we can have another
child” or “God only calls home the best.”
A companion does their best to protect us from Job’s friends. If they cannot head them off at the pass,
they will offer a listening ear as we react to these wolves clothed as
friends.
A companion feels with us but is not overcome by their own
pain. There is a distinction between
sympathy and empathy. Sympathy is a
response to our pain at seeing another’s pain.
Other’s suffering triggers a remembering of how that felt and engenders
a sense of pity for the other. We need a
companion that can get past this and
respond to our pain. We need a companion
with empathy, a meaningful connection
between people that grows out of the other’s pain. It focuses on the other, not us. Its focus is on compassion, a “feeling with”
the other and seeks ways to help them through their pain. Empathy respects another’s pain while pity
dwells on our own pain. Empathy demands
that we respect the distance between us and not get lost in our own pain.
A companion has a genuine concern about our well-being and is
realistic about what they can do to help.
Most of us can read a helper’s intent within a few seconds. We can usually tell if they are responding to
us or to their own needs and desires. It
takes a pretty good actor (salesman) to fake genuine concern. Our “gut” usually betrays them. This intuitive reading of the other’s motives
allows us to trust their care-giving because we know it is in our best
interests, not theirs. We can trust that
they have worked through and know what they have to offer as well as what is beyond
their power or ability. We deserve a
companion that engenders trust, not one that evokes suspicion.
A companion is someone we trust enough to accept a shoulder
to lean on when we stumble. Without
trust we will hold back our “leaning” whether it is with the body, mind, or
soul. I had a walking stick for many
years that was collapsible and easy to store.
But on one difficult hike, it collapsed in the middle of a rocky
trail. I could no longer trust it to
help me through the rough spots. I
replaced it with a good, stout stick that has never failed me. It makes the journey so much easier. We need a companion who can do likewise when
we traverse that shadowed valley.
A companion will be with us even when the grief has begun to
ease. Too often our friends experience
“compassion fatigue” and are unable to walk the whole length of the
valley. They need to take care of
themselves and sometimes that means leaving us in the valley. But a
companion is able to stick with us with only occasional trips out of the
gloom. They find joy in their walking
with us. We can count on them being with
us when the light starts to break through and we feel that “new normal”
starting to emerge in our lives. A
companion is with us for the whole trip, even though it may go on far longer
than either would like.
Finally, a companion is someone with whom we will look back
with joy and say, “Remember when...” as we talk about our deepest moments of
grief. The companion will become one
with whom we share not only our grief but also our journey to the other side of
the valley. When grief is no longer the
defining experience in our relationship, we may feel the closeness begin to
fade. They recognize and acknowledge the
changes that happen, and you are both able to look back rather than return to
the darkest parts of the valley.
Instead, you and your companion will celebrate the journey and continue
moving forward even when the relationship begins to change.
If you are blessed with a companion through your grief, you
will have a gift beyond measure. Honor
that gift with honesty, integrity, respect, and gratitude. They will make all the difference in the
world to you.
Where Do I Find a
Companion?
This companion can be crucial to our grief experience. But it is not always easy to find someone who
is able and willing to be that companion.
We must weed through Job’s friends and other innocently unhelpful people
to find someone who can be our companion.
There are two concerns at play.
First, where am I likely to find a companion? And second, how can I tell a good possibility
from all the people around me?
There are several places to look for a potential
companion. It is important to note that
a good candidate will often present themselves along with a bunch of Job’s
friends. If that is the case, move on to
the next section on discerning a good companion. However, if one has not showed up, you may
want to look around and see if any potential companions are among these groups.
Among your family – Are you particularly close to a brother
or sister, cousin, aunt or uncle. If
they are too close or are emotionally dependent on you, they may have trouble
keeping their needs at arm’s length in walking with you. But if you are close, they will likely know
you well enough to see through and into your mind and soul. They will also likely be with you through the
long haul.
Among Your friends – A companion will be found most likely among
your close circle of friends. They will
likely have been through a grief experience or two and have seemed to have
grown through their grief. They will
have the distance they need to take care of themselves and the closeness to
walk with you as long as you need them.
Local Hospice’s Bereavement Program – If your circle of
friends or family do not have anyone, you may want to check with a local
hospice (whether your loved one was on their service or not) and ask to speak
with the Bereavement Coordinator. They can
guide you to a support group or offer you someone who might be able to help
you. Many hospices have volunteers who
serve as companions. Unless your grief
is exceptionally complicated, you will not need therapy. Ask, instead, for a companion. If they do not understand your request, find
another hospice.
What am I looking for
in a companion?
Not their first rodeo – A good companion will be very
familiar with the shadowed valley of grief.
They will likely have walked it themselves once or twice and with others
who have been in grief. They need enough
personal experience with grief to develop empathy and avoid pity.
Ability to listen without interrupting - A good companion is able to listen to
you. They need to hear your words,
feelings, and stories without translating them through their own. It is like talking with a “native
speaker.” They do not have to understand
you through their experiences. Instead,
they can let their story rest comfortably in their own soul while you tell your
story. When talking with you they do not
interrupt. They let you tell your story
in your words and in your way. They may
ask the occasional question for clarification.
But this should rise out of seeking to better understand you rather then
sneaking their story into the conversation.
Close by (physically or electronically) – You will need to
be in contact regularly. The frequency
will depend on your needs. Ideally this
will be through face-to-face contact or by telephone. If you are comfortable with email, texting, or
video conferencing, then these may work as well. But your companion will want to be available
when they are needed, and you will be responsible for choosing someone who can
“be there.”
The patience to allow your relationship to unfold – An
anxious companion will not generally be able to provide the support you need. They may be anxious about their time, grief,
your relationships, or a myriad of other things. Your companion needs to be calm and patient
enough to let the relationship evolve and grow.
Generally, it deepens as the trust grows and does not happen immediately.
An inner connection – The best indicator will be the inner
connection that exists between you and your companion. What does your gut say? How comfortable were you talking with them
when the topic of grief came up? Do they
“get it” as you tell your story? These
are all indications that they may be a good companion for you.
Our walk through that lonesome valley, whether it be the
approach of your own death or the death of a loved one, will be a lonely
one. We are walking by ourselves with
others. It is a parallel journey. They cannot carry you or show you the
way. But a companion will be at your
side when you need them. Together, the
two of you will feast of the same loaf of the bread of life and find strength
and encouragement in one another. I pray
that if you are grieving you will find a companion. Or, if you know someone who is grieving, you
will be able to become their companion.
You will both grow through the journey together.
Peace,
Bob
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