To honor the victims of the Boston Marathon tragedy, a lot of folks will be wearing race t-shirts today. As a pseudo-runner, I have tons of shirts to choose from but instead of one from a race I ran, it seemed more fitting to choose a race for which I volunteered. So I chose a shirt from Josh and Gus’s Run for a Reason.
Back in 2004, I decided to volunteer for a cause in a completely altruistic manner. Helping with something that did not directly effect me. I stumbled upon Josh and Gus’s Run through my mom’s group. Little did I know that what I gained through my 4 years would benefit me far more than any help I gave to the organization.
Josh and Gus’s Run taught me about grief. Josh and Gus were two toddlers who died unexpectedly and for no apparent reason. With no explanation available for their deaths, the deaths were ruled Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood, a cousin of the much more well-known SIDS. The run was founded by Josh and Gus’s moms who had lived through the unimaginable, the death of a child.
I had never lost a significant person in my life when I started working on the run, so I was unprepared for the level of grief these moms were dealing with. I was still in the mindset that you “heal” from grief.
I learned that you never really heal or get over a significant loss. You just learn to deal with that absence in your life. The tiniest thing, talking about a book, re-reading sympathy comments or looking at pictures could re-open the wound in your soul, a wound that never heals.
I learned that it was important to say something when someone has lost a significant person. Just a simple I am sorry will do. Stumbling over words and a few tears with your words are better than no words. Recognizing that person once existed by remembering the family on the birthday or “angel date” means a lot to those grieving.
I learned that grief is a life long journey.
Yesterday as I watched the news coverage from Boston, I felt empathy for the volunteers. For 4 years I helped on the course committee for Josh and Gus’s Run. I felt a huge responsibility to make sure “my” runners and walkers had fun and were safe on the course. When that last walker crossed the finish line, I felt a great sense of accomplishment. Working a race is supposed to be fun and fulfilling, not terrifying.
So it seems fitting that I honor those lost in Boston by wearing a shirt that symbolizes so much to me.