Unbearable grief inspires founding of therapy group
There are no classes in dealing with grief. We don’t even like thinking about grief. But losing someone you love is one of the few things we all have in common.
Cate Hayes spent weeks in painful mourning last fall — self-medicating and bed-ridden — after her sister was killed. Now, she’s trying to help others cope.
Her sister Karen Coulter, mother of an eight-year-old, died shortly after takeoff in October while piloting a helicopter, just before her 47th birthday. The cause of the crash has yet to be determined.
“It completely flipped me upside down,” Hayes said. “I’d try to get out and hike every day, but I felt literally pinned to my bed some days.”
Hayes had the support of her stepsister, but it wasn’t until one day after she had forced herself up and out that she first heard the words that have eased some of the pain.
“I was hiking with a friend and somehow in the conversation the term ‘death doula’ came up,” Hayes said. “My friend had no further info so I raced home and Googled it.
“Long story short, I found a three-month program run by the Conscious Dying Institute out of Boulder, Colo., and they happened to be hosting in Vancouver, so I enrolled.”
She recently received her certificate and has joined the growing number of end-of-life doulas in the Lower Mainland. Many people have a doula there at the beginning of a life, assisting women during childbirth and sometimes providing support after the baby is born. It makes sense to have a doula there at the other end, too, to have someone be a companion for a family who has someone approaching death, to support and guide them spiritually, practically and energetically.
“An end-of-life doula provides respite and whatever else the person might need,” Hayes said.
“Of course, my sister was killed and I didn’t have that support, exactly. My stepsister, who is a reverend, stayed with me for 12 days after and she did provide that support, but I didn’t know there was a term for it.”
Hayes searched the internet over the winter for grief therapy groups because the things she was “feeling and doing in my grief just didn’t make sense. It was a horrible process to go through alone, I thought I was losing my mind.
“I felt like I was walking on my hands and eating with my feet, basically. Grief is confusing and I needed someone to say, ‘Hey, that’s normal, and eventually you will be using your hands to eat again.’ ”
This led her to form a grief therapy group which she calls the Departure Lounge. The group will meet for the first time on April 26 in a homey log cabin on the grounds of her Lynn Valley townhouse complex.
Hunter Creek babbles pleasantly nearby; ducks swim where it widens into a pond. The cabin is surrounded by woods and songbirds. It’s a serene and comfortable little spot. So far, about 20 people are expected, but more are welcome. Those interested can email departurelounge17@gmail.com.
Rev. Colleen Tanaka, Hayes’ stepsister, will be the first guest speaker at the Departure Lounge.
“I want to be able to support people through the grieving process, in my sister’s honour,” she said. “But it’s also helpful to me, as I’m navigating my own way through grief.
“Grief is the most horrible thing, but you can’t stay in that dark hole. It’s not going to stay awful forever.”
Gord Downie died soon after Karen Coulter did, and Hayes has taped to her fridge lyrics by the Tragically Hip songwriter that inspired her, from his farewell album Introduce Yerself: “Let’s turn our faces to the sun and get whatever warmth there is ...”
“I spent a lot of weeks medicating and stuck in bed,” Hayes said. “Now that I’ve been able to pull myself out of this misery, I want to help as many people as I can.
“Grief is extremely confusing and at times really beautiful, because, well, it’s because we loved someone so much.”