Sunday, September 27, 2015
They say laughter is the best medicine. In the case of Bart Sumner, this is probably true. Sumner’s, a professional actor/screenwriter/teacher is the creator and founder of Healing Improv, a non-profit that provides no-cost Comedy Improv Grief Workshops for those struggling with grief.
The workshops are designed to bring a fun and healing experience to individuals or group organizations. Through the use of comedy improv games and exercises, they will help break down emotional barriers, increase communication with others, and shine a light on the fact that even in the darkest times, there is a light forward to a life of joy and hope.
Sumner started this group after his 10-year-old son David died in 2009 during a football practice. He says it kept his emotions open and flowing and taught him that laughing and enjoying life, even in the midst of tragedy, was not only acceptable, but it was downright necessary.
“It allowed me to flex the emotional muscles, making it easier to direct the sadness into constructive grieving,” he said. “It didn’t stop my tears; in fact, they flowed more freely, but that is the goal. Grief is not something you can beat or avoid, it is a necessary process that you must go through and emerge from ready to move forward with life.”
He adds that learning to laugh again, surrounded by others who have suffered a similar loss, keeps the emotions open, allowing you to recognize your emotions and channel them into the healing we all need. Much like tears and sadness, laughter is an uncontrollable reflex emotion that comes whether you want it to or not.
No-Cost Adult Comedy Improv Grief Workshops are two hours long, as are youth and family workshops, sharing personal stories and them playing improve games designed to open up emotional channels and laugh in a safe sharing environment full of new friends that understand what you are experiencing. The next one is Saturday, Oct. 10, 2015. Call 818-784-2007 for more information.
Sumners also recently delivered the closing Keynote speech at the Bereaved Parents USA National Gathering in July as well as other workshops around the country for different grief organizations. He is the author of “Healing Improv: A Journey Through Grief To Laughter,” which chronicles his personal grief journey among other things.
“This workshop made me cry, laugh and helped me begin to understand. Sumner takes you down the rabbit hole with him, but throws you the rope of hope and laughter to pull yourself out,” said Steven Green comedy/author/acting instructor.
“We strive to give people a chance to break free from stifling grief with others who understand, through laughter, energy and love. If you or someone you know needs this in their lives, we welcome you with open arms. It saved me. It can do the same for you,” said Sumner.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
It is always hard to believe when a friend or a loved one dies suddenly and tragically. You want to pay your respects by visiting, but you don’t really know what’s right or wrong to do once there. Here are a few suggestions of do’s and don’ts that might help.
What to say is probably the hardest thing to do. You don’t want to make it worse. So you don’t want to tell the parents things like, “She’s in a better place” or “God will take care of him.”
It is important not to be scared of silence. Give a hug. Just hold their hand. They may not want to talk. Let them start the conversation. Just let them know through your body language you are there for them. When the conversation starts, the simplest comment is, “I’m so sorry.” And let them take it from there.
Don’t laugh and make jokes at a bereavement call or try to cheer anyone up. That is not your job. And certainly don’t tell inappropriate stories about something funny someone said.
If others bring up some memories of the loved one, you can feel comfortable doing the same. But perhaps the best time to bring up fond memories is a few weeks or months later, when the death is not so new.
You may cry with the bereaved. It is not inappropriate to do so, particularly if you were friends or close to the one who passed. Holding their hand may comfort them as they cry. Bring tissues to pass to those who need them.
Don’t just call the bereaved on the phone. That is very impersonal and can be uncomfortable as you are not able to see their reaction to anything you are saying and vice-versa. Over the phone, you are forced to say something instead of being silent, increasing your risk of saying the wrong thing. If you can’t go in person, write a letter or email expressing your sympathy.
Respect the visiting hours. Don’t come before or after the times posted just because it is easier or more convenient for you. You may be intruding on time they want to spend with just family members.
Don’t be upset or surprised if you don’t get to talk to the mourners. Sometimes there are too many people there and not enough time to get around to everyone. The important thing is that you came and mourners appreciate that.
Offer any help to the mourner. Perhaps you can get them a plate of food or a drink, something they may not be able to do with many people around.
Don’t ask for details about the death. The bereaved may not want to talk about the one who died; it may be too painful for them at this time.
Talk to others who have come to pay their respects to the mourners. You may know some, but also introduce yourself to those you don’t know. It is comforting to hear from someone who knew the deceased in a different context and had a different relationship with him/her.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Darcie Sims, bereaved mother, was a special person to everyone who knew her. She has given so much to so many that we each have a part of her legacy within our hearts. As a grief counselor, we have her wisdom about life and death and as an author we have her words, emphasizing that she was one of us and knew our hearts. She always had wise counsel and good advice for those who grieve.
I wrote a blog last year the week after Darcie died suddenly. I listed all her accomplishments which I won’t repeat here, but if you didn’t know her, read the March 9, 2014 blog. Some of her thoughts will endure forever because of her down to earth, realistic attitude towards losing someone you love, especially a child. Below are some of the thoughts I remember most.
“We can heal from the terrible hurts of grief, but only if we allow ourselves to claim every hurt and learn to live through them, not avoid them. There are no short cuts through grief.”
“As we listen to each other, we begin to hear our own grief and we begin to build those support systems that will help us through the darkest night, in the most silent moments.”
“Learn to look for moments. You will not forget a single moment of your life. They are all stored somewhere in the recesses of your mind. But we can choose which ones come forward to support us or defeat us.”
“Few books tell us it’s normal to hang on to tiny momentoes of the past, but no one thinks it’s weird to keep the old high school yearbooks.”
“No one can tell you how to grieve or when to heal. I just want to let you know you can find hope and healing and you can find joy once again.”
“Breathe in love and find the memories and the magic of those who have loved us. Love is the magic that heals us all.”
“Each time we reach out across our own pain, to find another hand searching in the darkness, we begin to lighten our own darkness.”
“One day, if you work hard enough and allow it to happen, you will wake up and remember first that your loved one lived, not just that he died. And that is a great day!”
Sunday, September 6, 2015
I only met Richard Edler once. It was at a Regional Conference in Scottsdale, AZ, 15 years ago. For the first time since my daughter died in 1994, I listened to a man who made so much sense to me; what he said, how he acted, his humor, his whole being radiating warmth, compassion, and the caring attitude of one who wanted to help all of us who sat there listening intently, hungry for some knowledge and words that would help us move on with our lives. Clearly, those words came, and I treasured them, for not many years after that, he died suddenly, joining his son Mark, who had died 10+ years earlier.
Richard Edler was a popular and brilliant, eloquent speaker at Compassionate Friends conferences, husband to Kitty and father to Mark. Kitty is still active and a staunch supporter of The Compassionate Friends where she lives and also on the national level.
Below I have printed some of what I call Richard’s “words of wisdom,” three valuable lessons he learned going through the grief journey. Read them and see if you don’t agree and if they help you understand what you are going through.
“Life goes on and we must too. Gradually the pain eases and the warm memories replace the sadness. Gradually, we return to life. One day we find that it is 11:00 in the morning, and we have not thought about our child yet. At first we feel guilt. But then we also realize we are going forward. We will never forget. But we decide that the loss of our child will not be the all-consuming factor in our life. We choose to enjoy friends again. We choose to go out to dinner again. We choose to laugh again. I am convinced that this is what our children would want for us. The pain does not bring our child back. It only makes us miserable without end.
“Become grateful for what we have, not focused on what we have lost. I see people in our chapter meetings who have gone through every parent’s nightmare and want no part of life again. But, I ask that these compassionate friends also think about the ways they have been blessed, as well as hurt. In my experience, most people have more to be thankful for than they realize: health, other children, a loving family, a career they enjoy, financial security, life in a free country, a faith that works for them, a true best friend, a spouse who they love. Nobody has it all. But compared to most of the world, we have a lot.
“The life we now lead will be better than it would have been. That does not make our child’s death a good thing. It just means that our child’s life mattered, and it has changed us forever. It means that in some small way the world will be better because our child lived, and we are the ones who can make it so. We have a new sense of priorities. We don’t sweat the small stuff. We know what matters because we know what is irreplaceable. And we know how deeply other people hurt because we, too, have been there. We know how they feel.
“And when our life is different and better because our child lived, then that child is never forgotten. Each of us would do anything in the world to go back in time, but we can’t. It is up to us now to go forward, and we can.”
Note: Next Sunday I write about another very popular speaker's words of wisdom for bereavement groups across the country and also one who died far too young: Darcie Sims.