Scott Kamps
It’s been a month since I held my daughter’s hand as – with her final heartbeat – she kissed this world goodbye.
The unspeakable, overbearing pain of that day comes and goes, in waves. I can genuinely resonate with the modern-day poet Jelly Roll when he bellows, “I'm not okay, but it's all gonna be alright.”
I’m not looking for pity, but since I’ve experienced this unwelcome intruder known as grief in ways I’ve never experienced before, I know I’m not alone. Even considering the sudden, unexpected traumatic losses in our community, there have been deep anguish experienced on – and since – Dec. 30 (Kase Brooks), Jan. 23 (Shalimar Daniels), and now, Feb. 18 (Bobby McGuire). There are probably more deaths “before their time” that I’m unaware of.
Then, consider grief comes upon all who lose any loved one; The Graham Star has already ran 23 obituaries in 2025. Grief can overwhelm from any significant loss: terminal illness, divorce, physical/sexual abuse, etc.; the occurrences of loss is everywhere in our sin-cursed world.
The experience of grief is universal, but everyone grieves in their own way. Still, there do seem to be prevalent characteristics in the experience of overwhelming pain/anguish. After the initial blast of catastrophic loss, many experience what some would describe as a physical feeling of heaviness upon their chest – even making it hard to breathe at times.
I’m not one who would be described as a man who “is in touch with his feelings.” If you know me well, you probably laughed at that last sentence. In fact, I decry the softness and overly-emotional effeminacy plaguing many young men in our society. In Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Grey, one of the characters remarks that, “Women were better suited to bear sorrow than men. They lived on their emotions.”
If there’s any truth to his generalization, then “man, I feel like a woman!” I’ve never cried so much in my life.
The truth is: while we ought not be at the mercy of our emotions, it’s not good to hide from them either. Grief, like any emotion, can be good or bad (consider anger, empathy, or fear).
I am convinced that our culture seeks to sanitize the depth of overwhelming grief; it tries to put away all death from sight. The ancients were more real with their anguish and sorrow – read the Psalms. The word bereavement comes from the Old English root word “reave,” which literally means being torn apart. Losing a loved one is like an amputation; and not in some nice surgical way, but literally being ripped away. My world and family forever changed in ways I didn’t want and don’t like, and I can’t change it. There’s no quick, painless solution to deep grief and catastrophic loss, but we can respond to it rightly, not by hiding it or wallowing in it.
My desire is to mourn deeply and live well, to walk this lifelong journey of growth – God help me.
Scott Kamps writes a bi-weekly column for The Graham Star. He can be reached via email, thestableguy@frontier.com.