I must start this blog with an assurance …unless you are forced into an unimaginable event; your brain will never allow you to really understand. But that mental limitation does not mean you cannot still add to your knowledge of this kind of life experience. If you are bold enough to try, this blog will not only help those looking at the unimaginable from the inside out, but the people whose viewpoint is from the far safer outside looking in perspective.

As mentioned in the book, we humans are a future based species. We create images for what we want to happen in our lives and then fill in the color (physical, emotional, etc.) surrounding each aspect of that future blackboard dream. When a imaginable dream is realized, our minds automatically record and store that event as a memory.

When the event is powerful and important to us, we invoke repetition to ensure all important details are clearly and firmly defined before placing them in our memory bank. We do that kind of mental due diligence for a good reason. During the course of our lifetime we have so many important thoughts to store, when we do not pay close attention to how we ‘file’ the really important ones; they can easily become buried beneath piles of new ones. When that happens, not only does the memory become less clear, but important aspects of it can disappear altogether.

The best way to ensure a memory never get lost is via repetitive storytelling. I liken this process to what mothers do after the birth of their child. They share every detail of their pregnancy and birth, over and over and over and over again to any who will listen…or has no readily available escape route. Years later, if you ask a mom about her child’s birth, she will repeat that story with as much clarity as if it were yesterday. For most of us, birth is very much an imaginable aspect of our lives which makes it easy to share as well as hear about.

The grieving go through much the same need to share when it comes to unimaginable events. However there are a couple of noticeable differences that you should be aware of.

Unlike imaginable events, it takes time for the grieving to comprehend an unimaginable one. You see, our human brain stops us from imagining those kinds of experiences. As a result, when one happens to us, our thoughts, imaging, etc. must start from a place of emptiness. Fighting disbelief, anger, fear, pain and even event acknowledgement, repetitive story telling allows us to slowly build a recognizable (and survivable) documentation of what occurred. Without that explanatory repetition we would stay trapped in the unimaginable moment, unable to log the event as memories or move forward in a meaningful way. The process goes something like this…

During the week after Kalei’s death; I told and re-told everything I knew about the days and minutes prior to the crash. And then, when the R.C.M.P. Constable came to the house to provide the final police report, I asked so many detailed questions of the moments surrounding her death I started to make him uncomfortable. He calmed down when I said, “Please understand, I am not asking you these questions from a negative perspective. I am trying to understand the unimaginable…my child’s death. Just like all the details of her birth, I need to gather from you and anyone else who can contribute the details of her death. Only then will I be able to properly share the story of my child’s birth, life and death.”

It took years, but eventually the unimaginable became imaginable. Thankfully, I was allowed to get to that point in a healthy and non-hurried way. That was in no small measure due to the many people who, in spite of the pain and discomfort it caused them, allowed me to utilize the grief law of repetition to help me understand my child’s death.

Now, when asked, “What should I do to help?” I answer, “Don’t be afraid to say the child’s name and let them know it is okay to tell you the story of their child’s life and death…whenever they need to.”

From where I sit, those are two amazing gifts. As for help, well, it helps more than you can imagine.