Family members share grief

NORTHEAST GLENDALE— While the holiday season marks a joyous time of coming together for most people, for the some 50 families that gathered Monday for a grief support remembrance ceremony at Glendale Adventist Medical Center, the traditionally festive winter months can be unbearable, grief counselors say.

Organized by the Chaplains’ Department at the hospital, the annual “Beyond Loss” remembrance ceremony provides a forum for friends and family members of the deceased to come together, celebrate the memory of their loved ones and feel a sense of community during the holidays, said the Rev. Alice Zulli, the hospital’s associate chaplain and certified bereavement facilitator.

“Any time that there’s a general sense of coming together of family or friends, it’s a tremendous reminder of their loved one not being there,” Zulli said. “Some of them can’t even go outside their homes, or they’ll just get slammed with grief.”

Participants at the hospital’s weekly grief counseling workshops say that sudden feelings of grief, though perhaps more prevalent during the holidays, can come randomly.

It’s an experience they all can relate to, said Susie Smith, who became a facilitator after attending grief counseling to cope with the loss of family members.

“STUG,” Smith said. “Sudden Temporary Upsurges of Grief.”

Sharing grief and coping translate into a therapeutic, communal experience, said Torrey Smith, who sought grief counseling in 2002, the year his wife died and three years after his mother died.

“Coming here was probably the best thing that ever happened to me,” Smith said.

“The biggest surprise to me is when I looked up ‘grief counseling’ in the phone book; it’s not there.”

On Monday night, ceremony participants honored their loved ones by sharing stories about their lives and by posting photographs and notes on a wall. The faces on the wall were young, old and even shared space with one person’s beloved dog.

Gathered in a circle, with two glowing Christmas trees providing most of the room’s light, and the somber music from musician George Abe’s bamboo flute as a soundtrack, the families stood up and cycled past the microphone.

After a reference to their relation, from friend to soul mate to husband to daughter, each participant then said the name of their deceased loved one.

Each name would be recorded in the hospital’s “Book of Memory,” which each year “keeps getting bigger and bigger,” Zulli said.

“We don’t stay in the same place, and we never go backward,” Zulli said. “Inch by inch, we move forward.”