Hello. How are you doing today?
Yes, I know. I don’t look familiar to you right now. Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve written. I’ve got a multitude of reasons that have kept me from writing. If you’re not in healthcare, you just won’t understand.
It’s been a long time since July 18th and so much has happened since then. The one thing that has been consistent is Covid. Numbers were going down but that certainly didn’t mean that Covid was gone. People still died. People still died without their families present at bedside. People still spent a lifetime in the hospital, weak enough to be scared; wondering if they would ever make it home. Gone too soon.
That’s not all that happened. Life continued on with other challenges that kept me away from my laptop.
Since the last time we sat together, I’ve had to officiate 2 funerals for young people, far too young to be buried. The promise of a baby girl that ended a few months too soon. Such a sweet family that had to deal with a loss familiar to millions of other parents. Losing a child before they had a chance to develop is difficult. Losing a child who you’ve wished and prayed for, the one you invested so much in, is gone. Not only that, but the emotional and financial savings accounts were depleted, along with the promises and hope of a new family. I stood in front of this family, witnessing the grief in their faces and her devastated parents. I saw the face of this precious angel. There have been so many gone before they should have been, including this sweet little girl. Gone too soon.
After the funeral, I made a promise to myself not to do any more. The work I do at the hospital is heavy. Sometimes, it weighs on me in ways I don’t see coming. When I officiated this sweet girl’s graveside service, that took some of my reserve. I needed time to recover. There is a reason I do weddings and not funerals.
Well, not three weeks later, I received a text message. It was September, which happens to be Suicide Prevention Month. I received a text about a young 16 year old teenager, a boy really, who died by suicide. He was the son of someone very dear to me. She asked that I do the funeral. Of course I said yes.
As a trauma chaplain, I see too much. I see a lot of young pain coming into the trauma center on a daily basis: young people who died from ATV or motocross collisions; young people that were killed out of revenge; and young people who thought they were invincible as they traveled in their cars.
I have learned to manage through the distress when it comes to these situations. They are hard and I feel for the families. Sadly, I’ve seen enough of them to know I can appropriately manage my emotions and strength (most of the time). I can’t say the same for other traumas. The situation that is most difficult for me to manage, is when a young person takes their own life. This happens all too often. ALL TOO OFTEN. I’ve seen children as young as 8 years old, come into the hospital after having shot themselves. There have been teens coming in with marks on their necks. Some of them overdosed on something they find at home. Rarely do they survive and even when they do, a part of their spirit died in the process. Gone too soon.
I did not see the young 16 year old. He never made it to the hospital. But I saw his younger siblings when I went to their house. I saw his family. On the day of his funeral, I stood behind the pulpit and saw his friends. I saw the faces of his teammates, classmates and the friends he grew up with.
What makes it hard for me is I get it. I understandably how things can get so terribly dark that the only thing they think will take away the pain is to hurt themselves. Those young minds aren’t mature enough to comprehend what will happen after attempting suicide. They can’t manage the darkness and how to find some sort of light to guide them through. The pain has to be so much, with a darkness that blinds any feeling of hope, that suicide is the only possible solution. I understand it all too well.
I’ve seen the results of suicide, too many times. They ranged from ages 8 to 93. It’s so hard. For several reasons, my heart hurts for young teens. The word “young” means everything. Even though this young boy was surrounded by abundant love, he felt alone. He felt a pain that he just couldn’t take any more. His darkness blocked out the love of his family and friends. The darkness masked his pain from being seen by his friends and family. HIs youthfulness didn’t know what to do and it couldn’t be healed. This resulted in a family and community in so much pain, only time will be able to help. Gone too soon.
This year has been a difficult year. After his funeral, I crashed. A part of my spirit died, after carrying so much during this year. His death and connecting circumstances were too much to carry and recover 100%. What helped is I did get to celebrate several weddings I officiated. I also get to work with phenomenal people but things are just not the same. Sadly, the young ones still get brought to the hospital. Infants are still dying before they are born and teens are still hurting themselves. Healthcare workers are leaving.
Trauma is real. Suicide is real. Infant loss is real. Covid is real. Please don’t forget that. Please do what you can to help and support one another, including the healthcare workers. We hear so much about Covid but as you can see, the virus is not the only thing going on within these walls. There is so much more than you can ever imagine and no matter the age, many spirits have been impacted. Healthcare workers have been severely hit. Our spirits have taken a beating. Several have died. Many have been hurt. Too many have left healthcare all together. They are gone too soon as well. Sometimes it’s all too much to sit down and write about and when you do, it still doesn’t make sense.
This Chaplain's Journey 