I attended The Compassionate Friends National Conference a few weeks ago, and as I’ve reflected on the experience, I realize that reflection is the perfect word.
Since I lost my son seven years ago, I’ve been making my way in a world that doesn’t understand me. My Compassionate Friends meeting is the monthly break I need from this world where I don’t belong.
When I walked into the ballroom for the opening remarks of my first TCF National Conference, I realized I was in the exact opposite world. Every person in that enormous room was just like me. Every smile had the same hint of sadness, every set of shoulders held the same weight of sorrow.
Everywhere I looked, I saw a reflection of myself. I saw people that were still standing even when life tried to knock them down. I saw people that were laughing and joking, even as they missed their kids with every fiber of their being. I saw people carrying a burden of grief in one hand, while reaching out to help someone else with the other hand.
The National Conference has something for everyone. There are sharing sessions, which are much like our monthly meetings, except they are scheduled for specific topics. There are workshops to help you learn about all the different aspects of grief and loss. There are healing haven sessions, which highlight the myriad of ways that people cope with loss.
The National Conference is the perfect place for people who feel that their brains don’t work quite like they used to. Everything is timed to be about an hour, there are breaks between sessions, and the information is spread out. There is a quiet room that you can use if you feel overwhelmed. I thought that I was an old pro at grief, but I’ll admit, I was in that quiet room on the first day! I took a stroll along the memory wall, and looking at all the pictures of children who just aren’t here anymore—including my own boy—it got to me.
Grief comes in all shapes and sizes: brand new loss, loss from long ago, different ages of children, different relationships to and with children, different manners of death. No matter the details, there was someone there who had a similar experience. There was a session about that topic, and every presenter suffered from loss as well. Not a single presenter implied that education was more valuable than experience. I saw several examples of experience becoming a catalyst for education, however.
For three days, in a hotel in New Orleans, I lived the TCF motto, “We need not walk alone.” None of us is truly alone in our grief, whether we attend the conference or not. We have the power to help others just by our very existence. The closing message of the conference was to let the love between you and your child become the light that you bring to the rest of the world.
Reflection is the perfect word. Being at the conference was like looking in the mirror, except instead of showing the outside, the conference reflects what’s on the inside: the love and sorrow and joy we all carry in our hearts.
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