Hard Days, Holy Days

 

Sister Reyna I Aburto related the account of Mary Magdalene at the tomb after Jesus' death.

"Mary Magdalene stayed at the tomb by herself. Only a few days before, she had seen the tragic death of her friend and Master. Now His tomb was empty, and she did not know where He was. It was too much for her to take in, and she wept. At that moment, the resurrected Savior came to her and asked why she was weeping and whom she was seeking. Thinking that the gardener spoke to her, she asked that, if he had taken her Lord’s body, to tell her where it was so she could get it. I imagine that the Lord may have allowed Mary Magdalene to grieve and to express her pain."

My community has taken on our share of grief this week.  

My coworker's husband passed away from covid this morning.  He left a grieving wife and teenage daughter.  That's our second covid death this week to directly impact our school and the third in the last month.

You could feel the sadness on the air and part of our leadership role morphed into grief counselor under the guidance of our professional counselor.  

Throughout the day, when it became to much to bear for teachers, we would offer respite for a few minutes, a shoulder to cry on, Kleenex or a listening partner.  I was continually overwhelmed with yes, sadness, but also a sense of deep gratitude for the way people support and uplift.  For the way it's okay to ask for help.  To simply mourn together.

Then came my biggest challenge and privilege of the day.

A third grade teacher needed to explain to his students that their classmate's dad had died.

He asked many questions ahead of time. What do we say? How do we respond to their questions? What can we do to help them? How do we do this while respecting the beliefs of all families? 

He asked the counselor and I to come and help him.  Our counselor is simply amazing at what she does. 

He told the kids the sad news.  She then explained grief.  That's it's different and unique to each of us.  In how we feel it.  In how we process it.   In how we show it and respond to others.

She talked about how grief comes and goes and it is normal to sometimes cry in anguish and sometimes laugh at the good memories.  That it gives our brains a little break.  

She talked about it being okay to say when we aren't sure what to do and to ask.  I talked about the importance of anticipating the need for grace and not becoming upset when their friend didn't react like she used to. Their teacher helped make lists of possible things it would be okay to say and do. And also that mostly we would need to watch and ask her.  Twenty sets of little eyes looked to us begging for understanding and help.  

He talked about how just like we have been becoming champions at inferring in our reading we would need to do that in our classroom to sense and respond to the needs of each other.

Then we split into three small groups and let the kids talk.  Some talked of grandparents or pets who had died.  Some cried loudly.  Some remained stoic but lost in thought.  Some giggled nervously trying to make sense of the difficult emotions.  

Some connected it to having a parent leave due to divorce or separation.  One wondered if it was okay to be sad if her pet was given away but didn't actually die- was that still grief? Some were afraid for their own parents and especially dads.

Then one asked how you get by with no dad.  And I was able to carefully express this pure truth.  Dying doesn't make him not her Daddy anymore.  And the student hugged his blanket tighter and sobbed quietly and then leaned into me.  

I am grateful that it was pajama day because soft clothes and teddy bears and blankets were a critical part of our circle of grief today. 

I am so grateful for divine truths.  I am so grateful for the Holy Spirit that can recall to my mind specific things I learned in a class on Children and Grief and Loss years ago at this exact moment.

I am grateful for my ability to ask you to increase your prayers for not just these devastated families, but all of us who help them.

I am also grateful for an unusually busy social calendar this week that refilled my bucket and for all of those who did that not knowing that it would help these children and teachers simply by letting me be filled and ready to serve. 

This was a hard day.  A heavy day.  A Holy day.  And there are more to come. But it is our privilege to participate.  It is our duty to share the truth.  It is our covenant to assist and lift and reflect the love of Jesus Christ.