My Personal Story on Loving, Losing, and Resilience

Written by Charlie Bouverette, MA LMSW

Sometimes the hardest moments in our lives later become great sources of wisdom and empowerment. Given our emotional state, we likely don’t see it this way at the time or don’t have the capacity to. In the weeks following a loss, we may feel that our heads are “fuzzy”, like a brain fog, and unable to focus on the things going on around us, because we are grasping the enormity of our grief. I’m speaking to the death of a loved one, coping with the changes of your special person no longer being physically present, and the emotional work we do in grief to adjust to a new way of living without them.

I also want to say in this conversation that this is not everyone’s experience, and how we process and understand our grief is unique. I am going to talk about my personal understanding and learning that came along with experiencing the death of my parents. Throughout my childhood, I often served as a caregiver to my parents, who had chronic health issues. My father was diagnosed with colon cancer when I was 16 due to asbestos exposure from his time in the service. My mother was experiencing neurological issues and having seizures, which left her unable to work. We lost our home in the 2008 recession, and things were very uncertain for my family. My father went into remission from cancer after having his colon removed, but was hospitalized several times throughout my teenage years, including an extended stint in the ICU.

With this background, I went to trade school and started working as a hairdresser to provide for my family. My father was enrolled in a lawsuit for his service-related illnesses, but we had not received any compensation or support at that time. My mother applied for disability, but she was denied. We experienced a sudden tragedy when my dad was hit by a car after stopping to have lunch with me at Dairy Queen. He needed many surgeries and was in a coma. He did not die immediately following the accident, but never fully recovered and died a few years later in the hospital. Following his death, my mother’s seizures worsened, and she was approved for full disability. I helped her move into disabled housing to support her independence, but she struggled with her life changes and chronic illness. She died by suicide the following spring.

I share this because in these moments, it felt like time stopped and my experience of the world fundamentally changed. I knew I could never go back to the way things were, and sometimes it still feels like a strange dream. That is normal after traumatic loss. This is not to say the death you experienced was under normal circumstances, but your response to that loss is normal. Navigating the world after a loved one’s death is a lifelong process. Part of the process I wish to share with you today is a concept called post-traumatic growth. It is something over the years following my parents’ death that I have experienced in deep and profound ways. I did not know there was a name for this concept or type of thinking until recently, and it is of value to talk about because you may be experiencing different elements of post-traumatic growth without knowing it.

In grief, it is very important to know that you are not alone, and many others have experienced heartbreak. Even years after a loss, your understanding of your loved one’s death can shift, or your perception of the world may change. You realize that your reality can be very different from another’s, given your experience of death, and in this, you gain more understanding for others’ struggles. As a young person, or really at any age, death can prompt you to have many questions about the human experience, leaving you wondering about the meaning of life, looking for answers about spirituality, or exploring your faith background. It is so important to offer ourselves grace and allow expansive thinking in grief, knowing it’s okay and normal to have questions like this. This is called existential thinking and is a cornerstone of post-traumatic growth.

Let’s first talk about what post-traumatic growth is. This is defined as positive growth and transformation that a person may experience after a traumatic event. It can look like a few things, including having a deeper understanding of yourself and a more intimate relationship with your internal state. It can also impact the quality of your relationships and strengthen your understanding of what is important in life. This means that your experience of grief may lead you to look at your own values and explore your personal belief system. With this framework, we can see that our grief is not just on the surface but can dig into the very roots of who we are. With this being said, we must allow ourselves emotional space and time to feel this, if needed. We may find our healing comes from this place and speaks to the transformational quality of post-traumatic growth.

In understanding this concept, I want you to also know that it is not a straightforward path and doesn’t get completed in stages or one direction. It includes times where you feel low or have a bit of a “setback”, other times you may feel you are in a period of growth and grounded in your experience. It also is not about recovery, but is something like grief that follows its own phases. I have learned a lot from grief and want to take a moment to share with you some takeaways from my own phases in hopes that you understand you are part of a larger grief community.

In general, I took a new perspective on death. I understood that death was a universal human experience, and if we live, we die. I also understood grief as a natural response to losing my parents because I loved them with all of heart. I identify with my parents because they are literally the people who made me, and the bond I have with them is everlasting. I understood I was not only their biological offspring, but the walking embodiment of them on this earth. I understood you could not know me without knowing my parents, and in time, that shifted from stinging pain to bittersweet comfort, as I accepted the reality of my loss. I thought about all the generations to live before me and my ancestors. My values shifted to seeing living things as sacred, meaning they were inherently worthy of awe and respect. The suffering I knew was still there, but I also found a source of joy and sweetness to know I carried the things that made my parents special. Sometimes things happen to us in life that we will never understand, and that is okay. I honor them in this work and everything that I do. Thank you, Walt and Debbie, for existing and showing me love that is light on my path.