Put Me In The Corner: Brawling with Grief
Imagine for a moment that you are a professional strike artist. A master of the body shot, and a prolific producer of the “right hook”. You’re fast, strong, and calculating. Anybody who has ever stepped in the ring with you has found defeat, whether it be by knockout or unanimous decision. You’re unstoppable, unbeatable. The ultimate fighter.
Now imagine you step in the ring, just like any time before, and as you turn your gaze upon the foe in the other corner, you are crushed by fear. Your chest tightens as you see that they outweigh you by 100 pounds. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you notice its reach is greater than yours by about 8 inches, and your stomach squirms as you look into their eyes and see nothing but a void of darkness and pain. The odds are insurmountable. The hopes of a win: diminished. This foe is going to beat you.
Then, from behind you, you hear a whisper, “It’s ok, you can do this.” You turn around and see a swarm of faces, some you recognize and others are unfamiliar. They look to you and nod their heads in unison, reaffirming that although the fear and fight is very real, winning will not be impossible. One of them reaches out a hand and lays it upon your shoulder, looks into your eyes and says, “We are here for you. We will be your strength.” The tightness in your chest subsides; the hair on the back of your neck rests, and your stomach turns from a roaring squall to a calm ocean current.
You have found it. Your confidence. Your strength. Your will to win.
Now, who is this mystery opponent? Well, it’s Grief.
The ferocious, blind siding, merciless monster of grief is there to fight, to beat you down, to overwhelm you.
Its weight is sorry, its reach is endless, and its deep-set eyes are dark. Each person who experiences a death of a loved one has to step into the ring with this unmatchable foe, and fight endless grueling rounds with it. The whole time, death is throwing jabs of anger, left hooks of despair, and haymakers of regret. Perhaps you are countering each strike with a happy memory, maybe you are in denial, or you’re telling everyone “I’m fine”.
But it’s not enough. Grief seeks to break you. That is where the man in the corner comes in.
Photo Courtesy of iStock/DaddyBit
I’ve never been a huge fan of boxing, but I have always found the idea of the “man in your corner” to be the best coaching method. They are only a few feet away, yelling out instructions or boosting their player’s confidence. No fancy signs, no whistles, and no prancing up and down a sideline. The coach’s involvement in boxing is personal, beside you the whole way.
Getting to meet grieving people is what I do. I am one of those unfamiliar faces, but I’m there to support and help.
When you meet someone who has gone through loss, my challenge for myself, and to each one of you reading this is:
– Be that person in the corner. Offer love, care, and be a presence in their journey.
– Be bold. Say what your heart tells you to say, not what your brain finds more comfortable.
– Be physical. Physical communication is important, too. Offer a hug, an arm around the shoulder, or a two-handed handshake. If the person isn’t particularly touchy, respect that and find a way of connecting with them that is comfortable for them.
The more I think about this notion, the more I have become fond of boxing. The man in the corner is a gift, and I hope to offer myself as that gift to anyone who needs it. I hope you, as a reader, will do the same.
Who’s corner have you been in?
Who has been in your corner for you, when you stepped into the ring with grief?
Share some stories below or offer tips to be the ultimate “corner coach”.
44 Comments
Michael,
This is an interesting way to compare grief. It really is very important to be that coach in the corner. Just having someone behind you at your most challenging moments to offer you that bit of encouragement can be the world of difference. I have noticed in my own experiences in not only guiding families, but also in personal experiences, that just being there can be all the support needed.
You know where to go if you ever need someone else in your corner and it doesn’t have to be just for grieving.
Wow Michael- what a powerful piece! So well written, thought provoking & inspiring. It has been so awesome watching how you interact with our families & seeing the TLC you give them. I love that you are so “warm & fuzzy”, it comes to you naturally & I always feel comforted knowing you will be helping one of my families. I have been in the corner for hundreds of grieving families & have made lifelong friends with many of them. But being in the corner for my sister & her kids these past couple of weeks has been the most heartbreakingly rewarding moment I’ve had so far. It has been such an honor to walk by her side & guide her thru the funeral process start to finish. She was in my corner while I went thru my divorce & I will always be grateful for her love & support. Thank you, Michael! Love, Carrie
Thank you so much carrie. I hope I can grow into as good of a corner coach as you!
I have only had the opportunity to be in the corner for a friend of mine who’s mom passed a few years ago, myself and her other friend sort of “tagged teamed”. One of us was always with her while the other was running around behind the scenes wether it was picking up flowers or food or knee highs. I hope when I have to step into the ring I have a good man in my corner!
When it comes to being in the corner, I say, the more the merrier!
Michael . . .
First let me say how very proud I am that you are my grandson! You have always been a source of great joy to me, from the moment you were born. And now, I am in the presence of a great young man. I must say that I could not be more overjoyed with the decision you made to commit your life to helping others through your care and support of families here. How many grandmother’s get that opportunity. Your description of grief is spot on. None of us are prepared for that “punch in the heart”, even when we know that the death will be soon. Having that special “someone in our corner” give those who grieve an opportunity to be cared for, supported and guided throughout their journey. You have become that “corner man”, Giving loving direction and caring for the injured soul. You are becoming the consummate shepherd in a profession that requires you to be so much more than an “undertaker-ordertaker” I thank you for your heart!
GP
“Say what your heart tells you to say, not what your brain finds more comfortable.” Great advice!
I’m so grateful to those who’ve been in my corner and kept me shuffling.