In the book and movie "We Were Soldiers," Lt. Col. Hal Moore talked about his failure in contacting the families of the deceased among his soldiers in what is thought of as the bloodiest battle in the Vietnam War. He realized too late that there was one common element in all these difficult personal visits: the families just needed to te…
In the book and movie "We Were Soldiers," Lt. Col. Hal Moore talked about his failure in contacting the families of the deceased among his soldiers in what is thought of as the bloodiest battle in the Vietnam War. He realized too late that there was one common element in all these difficult personal visits: the families just needed to tell him what a wonderful human their son was. And he'd been guilty of exactly what, decades later, Colin Campbell says: people are afraid to hear from you. You become isolated. The doctor who, in telling them that the Campbell children were declared dead, and then asked, "tell me about them," was the first time anyone was willing to engage with them. Including social workers, who basically ignored Campbell and his wife.
After eight years of counseling, ruminating, reading, and doing so more than is reasonable, the Bari Weiss interview of Colin Campbell was the first time I found something that made sense to me. Maybe it "takes one to know one." Maybe Campbell is just terribly good at articulating emotions where others fail or rely upon euphemisms.
A loved one gave me a book when I suffered enormous and catastrophic loss, and I cherish it. Not because it was particularly good, but because I knew the intention of the giver was true and loving, and meant to provide solace. It was intention more than an objective salve that gave me some emotional peace.
Now, I will gift Campbell's book when I find out that loved ones or ones I care for go through loss. Because my intention is to provide that same solace. And because Campbell gets it right, at least more than anything else I have ever read or heard. A very nice piece of work.
In the book and movie "We Were Soldiers," Lt. Col. Hal Moore talked about his failure in contacting the families of the deceased among his soldiers in what is thought of as the bloodiest battle in the Vietnam War. He realized too late that there was one common element in all these difficult personal visits: the families just needed to tell him what a wonderful human their son was. And he'd been guilty of exactly what, decades later, Colin Campbell says: people are afraid to hear from you. You become isolated. The doctor who, in telling them that the Campbell children were declared dead, and then asked, "tell me about them," was the first time anyone was willing to engage with them. Including social workers, who basically ignored Campbell and his wife.
After eight years of counseling, ruminating, reading, and doing so more than is reasonable, the Bari Weiss interview of Colin Campbell was the first time I found something that made sense to me. Maybe it "takes one to know one." Maybe Campbell is just terribly good at articulating emotions where others fail or rely upon euphemisms.
A loved one gave me a book when I suffered enormous and catastrophic loss, and I cherish it. Not because it was particularly good, but because I knew the intention of the giver was true and loving, and meant to provide solace. It was intention more than an objective salve that gave me some emotional peace.
Now, I will gift Campbell's book when I find out that loved ones or ones I care for go through loss. Because my intention is to provide that same solace. And because Campbell gets it right, at least more than anything else I have ever read or heard. A very nice piece of work.