The little black funeral dress: A journey of grief and hope

“The little black funeral dress: A journey of grief and hope”
SunStar Davao, October 29, 2022

Just twelve days after their beloved son Jordan’s wedding, Carey and Shirley Thiessen received the heartbreaking news that he passed away in a workplace accident in Calgary, Canada.

A few hours before, Shirley who was on vacation in Palm Springs, California, could not explain why she felt a sudden desire to try on a black dress that she saw on the clearance rack. She thought to herself, “Wow if I ever needed a black dress, this would be the one I would want to buy because it was simple and classic”. But it was not her size on the label, so she promptly put it back.

As she walked away, Shirley mysteriously heard the words, “I want you to buy that black dress. You are going to a funeral”. She tried to dismiss the message in her head, but it persisted until she got to fit the dress. Surprisingly, the dress was so comfortable and felt like a hug.

                 

Only when she and her husband heard the tragic news hours after that she realized that the black dress was for Jordan’s funeral. “And while I was weirded out by that at first, my next thought was, “Oh, my goodness! How sweet of my Heavenly Father to have picked out what I should wear because as I wore that dress, it felt like God’s embrace to me,” Shirley recalls.

A decade after Jordan’s death, Shirley confides that she is still grieving but she chose to turn her grief into a purpose-driven endeavor:

How did you deal with your grief?

Although the sharp pain of our separation has softened somewhat, until I reach Heaven there won’t be a day that I don’t feel the heartache of Jordan’s absence. But in the meantime, God has shown me that I have a choice in how I process my grief.

If I choose to deal with grief on my own by pushing it down, numbing it in unhealthy ways, or pretending it does not exist, the pain will fester and become self-pity and bitterness.

The number one indicator that I am moving through my grief and not staying stuck in hopelessness is having a meaningful purpose for my pain. With God’s strength, I am choosing to serve others who are grieving by helping to carry the burden of their sorrow by expressing empathy and lending hope.     

How long after your son’s death did you realize that his death and your grief had a higher purpose?

Three months after Jordan died, I was at a large Christian conference. It was a work event that I would have skipped out on if there was an option to do so. Very unexpectedly at the conference, I was asked to publicly share my story of the little black funeral dress and have it videotaped. I initially thought the request was brazen given that I was raw and reeling from my recent loss.

On Mother’s Day 2013, my first Mother's Day without the physical presence of my son, the interview was aired online. One of the first responses was from a woman who left a comment that forever changed my perspective on my loss. She said something like this: “Thank you for vulnerably sharing your painful story. Your courage to trust God with your grief gives me the courage to trust God with mine.” 

Although there were many other affirming comments, God used that one statement to be my “aha” moment. It was as if God gently lifted my chin with His hand, looked straight into my eyes, and helped me see His perspective.  Recycling my pain for God’s glory meant that He would work through me to support others with comfort and courage as I surrendered my sorrow to Him…even when I did not feel ready.   

What is your advocacy at CornerBend Ministries?

Bringing hope to the broken-hearted by equipping every person - at every age – to be a Hope Hero who embodies Christ’s love by expressing empathy and compassion.

Can you please explain briefly the five things you wish you had known about grief from your book “The Little Black Funeral Dress”?

1.     You’re not going crazy. You’re grieving. There’s a difference.

The trauma of losing a loved one can feel like an emotional concussion. Instantly, you lose the capacity to function as you once did. It is alarming to suddenly lose short-term memory, be unable to finish a task easily, lose concentration in reading or talking, be plagued by irrational fears, etc. I wish I had known that this was a normal experience of grief. This knowledge would have saved me from unnecessary and additional fear. With time, I regained these capacities. But as a griever, it is important to be patient and kind to yourself. I wish I had known that.

2.     Hurtful things will be said. Choose to forgive … from a distance if necessary.

Well-meaning people say the most inappropriate and wounding words to a grieving soul. It happens all too frequently. Why? No one coaches us about what is helpful and what is not. People don’t know what they don’t know.  For the protection of your grieving heart, it may be necessary for a time to put some emotional and physical distance between you and those who repeatedly say things that hurt you. Or, if you have the capacity, share my book with them as a primer for what not to say.

3.     People who think grief has a timeline have never suffered a profound loss. Take all the time you need.

Grief is not a singular event of losing someone you love. It is waking up every day and becoming aware once again, they are gone! The sharp ache returns with the daily realization.

The grief journey is not a sprint. It is a marathon and the finish line is reached in Heaven. So instead of projecting onto a griever our opinion of what their journey should look like at any given time, it is better to be kindly curious. Gently ask them: What does your grief look like today? How is it different from last year or the year before? 

Allow people to grieve as long as they need. There is no timeline.

4.     Grief will change you. Grief will reveal you.

It would be unusual to meet someone who has not changed in some way because of their devastating loss. In many cases, the changes are positive. We become more self-aware of how we respond to others who are grieving. Our capacity to notice others and engage with empathy often increases. Because we are intimately aware of the brevity of life, we have a new appreciation for relationships. Our grip on material things loosens and our priorities are clearer than ever.   

Grief also reveals where we place our trust. As a follower of Jesus Christ, I have placed my faith and hope in Him. And yet I grieve. Expressing sorrow is not a lack of faith. But if I am stuck in bitterness or self-pity in my grief, my choices and behavior will expose a lack of trust in God, regardless of what I say.

5.     Hope Heroes are priceless. Find one. Be one.

Grief is messy, unpredictable, and disorienting. Everyone needs a caring grief companion, a Hope Hero, who understands that they cannot fix the pain of loss, but they are willing to help carry it.

I know the feeling of dread that comes when you think of calling a newly bereaved friend. What do you say? Does it really matter if you call or visit? How do I know if I am being helpful or hurtful?

To give you confidence, I have developed an online course called, “Hope Heroes: A Framework for Sharing Hope with the Broken-hearted.” This course functions as a playbook of best practices. It is 2 hours of content organized into 5 easy-to-digest videos. Anyone aged 9-99 years can learn the simple yet effective actions of a Hope Hero.

How can people reach out to you?

I am a grief coach and grief educator. People can reach out to me through my website: www.shirleythiessen.com  or www.cornerbend.com.

                   

Shirley Thiessen will be in Davao City on November 5, 2022, for her talk, “Let’s Talk About Grief”, at the Davao Evangelical Church Timothy Hall. The dinner fellowship will be at 6pm (pre-registration required) while the program starts at 7pm. An online Livestream of the program will be available via YouTube. The link will be posted in DEC’s Facebook and online group chats. On November 4, 2022, at 7pm, Shirley will also give a talk at the Christ Fellowship Church. Registration is free.