The Club No One Wants to Join
I have been putting this off. I have been putting it off for a long time. When I finally sat down to write, I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to sound put together. I used to write regularly. Years ago. Poems…songs…feelings. Life got busy and I stopped. So I felt like it would be easy to write again, especially about something so close to my heart. But it’s not been easy. And I think, well, I hope that's ok.
I have always been a perfectionist. From a young age I wanted to do things the right way and I wanted to succeed. Failure was something I didn't want to experience and when I had to at different points in life, I didn't handle it very well. Even now as I sit writing this, I feel like I am trying to succeed by trying to teach a lesson or offer some profound insight but really, this is me sharing my experience and perspective of losing my daughter and joining the club no one wants to be in.
I’m not sure where I first heard about the club no one wants to be in, I think it may have been a friend at church, but I know I never heard about it before Callie died and even if I had, I would never want to join. And now, I’m a member for life.
Membership in this club is not really something you advertise or something you would offer anyone. But if you find someone who is also a member, they just get it. I remember when we had Callie’s memorial service and the line. The line of people who supported us, laughed with us, cried with us, prayed with us. There was one person who stood out. She came through, waited her turn. I already knew she was in the club from working with her earlier in life. I didn’t expect to see her. She came to us, gave both Kristen and I hugs, a knowing look, and moved on. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She knew. We knew. She just got it.
I want to try and share what being in this club is like so those who are lucky enough to not be in it can learn a little more about those who are.
Most clubs have benefits, but after we lost Callie, boy, I really didn’t think there was much to look forward to anymore. The laugh I used to hear, the smile I used to see…now I can only hear it on videos or see it in pictures. There were days that I wouldn’t want to get out of bed but by God’s grace, I did my best to keep moving forward. I had people depending on me and I knew God’s plan was, and still is, perfect.
Anyone who knows me, knows I can talk. Let’s be honest, they know I can talk and they know I like to talk. I talk to process things. Problems, feelings, plans…I talk it out. But this was losing my child. Who wants to talk about that? Who wants to listen to that? The club I had just joined didn’t have meetings, there is no directory of other members. Even if there were, I bet not everyone who is in it wants to talk about it. So I turned to who I could. First- God. Being in the club has brought me closer to God. I could never survive losing Callie if I didn’t know and depend on God daily. I can’t speak for everyone in the club, but my experience has been that without Him, I couldn’t get by. Next I turned to my closest friend and deepest love on this earth- my incredible wife Kristen.
Kristen has allowed me to feel anything I need to while at the same time knowing when I needed professional support. She listens, she talks with me, she is patient with me. We could look at each other and just know when one of us was off a bit. Maybe that was becuase we had a memory pop up on social media. Maybe it was a change in season. Maybe there was no reason at all other than we missed Callie. But we lean into each other and carry on together as members of the club. After Callie died, the instinct was to ask each other “are you ok?” And we knew, no we were not ok. We were broken in so many ways. So we didn’t ask that and we asked “do you need anything?” This helped us know if we could do anything to help the situation. And I think that is universal for members of the club. We are probably not really ever “ok”. But, we grow with grief and move with it. If you ever find yourself in conversation with a club member and they are sharing things, you don’t need to ask if we are ok. If you really want to, you can ask if we need anything. Maybe a hug. Maybe a prayer. Maybe just to listen.
I feel like could write forever. I could share so many things about what it’s like being in the club. But if there is anything you take from this, I hope you know that I want to help others. My loss is not in vain. God has a plan and I do my best every day to not say “God why did you take her” but to say “thank you for letting her life touch mine and so many others.”
For anyone who is hurting, healing, happy or somewhere in between-I will listen. Yes, I can talk too, but I will listen. Reach out. Men-especially those in the club- we don’t need to be scared to feel. It’s ok. That’s what I have learned.
Like I said at the beginning, I put this off for a long time. Anytime I started writing, I cried. But emotions are not reserved for a club. Compassion is not for a select few. We can all support each other no matter what the circumstances. I pray each of you are blessed by God whether you know Him or not.
Written by: Cameron Ruffer
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