Friday, December 25, 2020

Still hurting... still grieving

To the families still grieving, I'm sorry. Whether it's been 7 minutes, or 7 years. 

A sincere "I'm sorry" from one of the many journalists knocked on your door on your worst day. Who were asked to reach out to you by managers... to send you a facebook message... a text.... a call..... an email......a tweet. 

It is not lost on me that any of those messages could have been either exactly what you wanted or the last thing you wanted to read/hear this year. For seven years, I wrestled with that part of my job. 

Every single time. Trying to make every word perfect for you so that I didn't offend you. I've messed up before and didn't want to make that mistake ever again. 

I know that some families find solace in the community caring about their loss. While I love being able to provide that, it also makes me feel uncomfortable. I know what that feels like, feeling vulnerable in front of the world... in front of other news people.... in front of a camera, whether live or taped, it's hard.

There are so many families on my heart today. Not just Vanessa Bryant, but countless others. Every family that I've encountered that lost someone this year. Whether you turned me down for that interview, told me to come back later, agreed immediately, the loss of your loved one left a mark on my heart from the moment I got the courage to reach out. 

My therapist might ask me what did that moment of reach out feel like? 

It's hard to describe. What I do know is that it never gets any easier to ask a family to talk on camera on their worst day. Sometimes, when our eyes meet and both me and the family realize that we both don't want to be there, the tears flow before we even begin. Sometimes they don't flow as freely. 2020 has made that hard as well since I must keep my distance when my instinct is to get them the hug they reach out for.

Sometimes those tears help break down that stigma that all journalists are cold and only care about filling the time we are assigned. But I am working on conveying those tears a bit better as I learn to leave not carry the weigh of your stories with me. It's hard though... because they really matter to me. 

I know I know ..... I shouldn't be carrying all of your stories to this day. I am learning how to tell them and put them down. But on days like today, when I am alone with my thoughts, thinking about the families I interviewed just this week as they prepared to bury a loved one, I can't help but think about the hundreds of others who are still grieving their loved ones today. Many of you I could call your loved one by name... still to this day.

I know you might be reading this for some hope, but honestly, finding the bright side of things has been hard for me in the face of what others are going through. But what I do know, is that I vowed to quit news when I became desensitized.... let's just say I am no where near that. I love the feeling of sharing a grieving families story in a way that honors their life. I love that when I cry, they are reminded that journalists are humans too. My love for humans helps me do that effortlessly. I am so grateful for all of you. 

I do believe that you can smile today as you hold on to the memories of whoever you lost. That's why reporters reach out. We hope that you will give us a chance to give you a 2-3 minute clip of you honoring the life of the person you lost. Those videos, the words you share, in the moment, are priceless. Yeah, I am doing it for my station to fill time. Yeah... it's my job and I get paid for it. But for me, the only reason I can stomach asking you to do an interview is because I know you might one day want to look back at the funeral or balloon release or vigil and have video from every angle. Video that is taken from the eyes of someone trained to capture your story. 

I have used the phrase "I can only imagine how you feel" more times than I can count. I really want to say, "I know what that feels like" because I've lost a loved one who I wished I had more time with. One that I didn't call for whatever reason. I lost a friend and her story... her picture... was shown on the news more than I wanted. I spoke with her weeks before she was murdered and wished I had listened closer for clues. I found solace in the arms of another grieving family who let me grieve with them before pulling it together to be live from the field. 

I say all that to say this, I know it could still be very very hard to smile today. I am proud of you for trying. 

-From that nosy, yet too friendly, possibly crying reporter :)

Still hurting... still grieving

To the families still grieving, I'm sorry. Whether it's been 7 minutes, or 7 years.  A sincere "I'm sorry" from one of...