ISOLATED
In the evenings, after the sun has rested behind the horizon, my husband and I retire to our room to watch TV together as we quiet down for the night. We have a reclining loveseat, so we sit side by side, usually holding hands, as the evening slips into nighttime. As we sit together, each of our daughters and grandchildren will usually call to say goodnight. Gratefully my days pass with loving words of endearment.
This routine gives me comfort. I rely on knowing that my children and grandchildren are safe, happy, and tucked away for a warm night of peaceful slumber. During the call, I usually hear the stories of their day's experiences, but the calls always end with expressions of love and appreciation. This is a peaceful way to end one's day, and I would not trade it for all the money in the world.
Last night as my husband and I sat on our reclining loveseat; we watched a program that has several episodes and multiple seasons within its series. We began watching season eight rather than season one. The series is about survival out in the wilderness without any other human companionship. The participants are allowed to choose a limited selection of tools they deem paramount to their successful completion of the series.
Some bring axes, while others bring saws. Some choose cord, while others bring wire. It is a matter of preference and prediction that each contestant chooses their tools for a challenging survival experience. I think it is insane because my priorities lie in comfort and convenience.
As I watch the contestants' struggles on this program, I always ask my husband, "Who would choose to do such an uncomfortable and insane thing?" I ask this because I cannot believe that these contestants willingly give up the comforts of home and the companionship of their family for this primeval experience. Even the dangle of wealth does not tempt me to want to consider such an insane endeavor.
Last night as we sat watching this program, two of the participants seemed to have their system for survival worked out very well. I was convinced one of them would be the last to tap out. Wow, was I wrong! Last night, one of the two participants (the one I favored) chose to tap his buzzer and go home.
This man was strong physically and had put into play a survival system where he had plenty of sustainable food, reliable and sturdy shelter, warmth, physical strength, emotional stability, and bravery. He had everything needed to survive except for one thing. He did not have the most precious thing known to man with him.
Of course, every contestant on the program battles solitude, the loneliness of being isolated without human companionship or distraction. The quiet moments where one's demons slip out to haunt them. This particular contestant, who has every indication of being the winner, suddenly tapped out of the competition. Before he called the producers to give his notice, he sat in front of his camera and explained his reason.
This man, who I thought would win the competition, revealed that he had lost his little girl to illness. While away from his family, he discovered that the possible winnings from the competition were not as valuable as his time and relationship with his wife and surviving minor son.
I admit I was disappointed that he dropped out of the competition because, in my heart, I knew he had the potential to win. Additionally, he had expressed that the winnings would relieve his monetary burdens allowing him more time with his family. In his farewell interview, he expressed his need to be with his family and his belief that nothing is more important.
As the program ended, I had a few tears streaming down my cheeks. This poor man was grieving in the woods, isolated under horrid conditions. How anyone ever thought that was a good idea is beyond me.
Support is vital when suffering grief. I learned that when I lost my grandson. Isolation, being alone, especially in a threatening, overly stressful, or dangerous environment, is not the answer. Grief has a way of isolating us from our regular routines and social events. Adding time alone in the woods and battling for survival is probably not all that healthy.
I wish I had a million dollars to give this grieving father so that he could spend all of his time with his family. Even though he left the program without winning the cash prize, I think he is the big winner. He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt what is essential in life. It's his family, his wife, and his surviving minor son. With that knowledge, he will always do what is right, and one day he will be able to tuck his pain into a place where he can live with it. That time never comes quickly enough for a survivor, but it comes. I pray that he can hold until that day happens for him.
Please join me in praying for him and his family. Pray for their comfort, their joy, and their healing. If we all pray together, perhaps the heavens will send down angels to tend them through their grief, and they will feel the loving embrace of Christ's peace. That is my prayer for them.
My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, Podcaster, and founder of the "Mikey Joe Children's Memorial" and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, Podcasts, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB's Integrity Award.
It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.
