Transforming Grief – When I Lost My Only Child | Phil Cohen | TEDxYoungCirclePark (2023)

Introduction

Phil Cohen grips the TEDx audience as he describes the life-altering experience of losing his only child, his fourteen-year-old son, Perry. In what turned out to be one of the most extensive searches in U.S. Coast Guard history. In his search for healing, Phil tells how a message from his late son, delivered in his darkest moments, caused him to shift his perspective, transforming his relationship with grief. In this talk, he shares the one thing missing from his counseling sessions, a strategy that has helped him cope with the unthinkable. Cohen is the author of The Grief Continuum, a methodology for transforming loss into empowerment for those experiencing grief. Phil Cohen is an award-winning speaker, coach, and creator of The Grief Continuum™, a framework for helping others to grow, flourish and overcome despair by discovering and developing their inner resilience. For over 25 years, Phil has helped global technology start-ups grow and prosper through developing their sales teams. After experiencing the sudden loss of his son, Phil has found a renewed purpose in helping others to integrate grief into their own lives after experiencing the inevitable traumas, tragedies, and transitions in life. This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at www.ted.com/tedx

Content

I was seated at the kitchen table across from the admiral of the united states coast guard.

I see uttered words that no parent could possibly prepare themselves to hear tomorrow we'll be holding a press conference to publicly announce that the search is being called off I'm.

So sorry, he said after hearing those words, I sat paralyzed in my chair.

And I thought my son, my only child isn't coming home, I'm, never going to recover from this.

And while I outwardly did my best to keep it together in public inside.

I was devastated, but I became fearful of getting overwhelmed or appearing out of control.

So I buried the pain, and I tried to carry on as normal at one point having no idea what I'm supposed to do.

I actually googled how to grieve and the well-known model referred to as the five stages of grief, has dominated searches around this topic for decades.

In case, you're unfamiliar, the model suggests that grief begins that denial and ends at acceptance.

And almost immediately.

I felt a sense of pressure like I was doing something wrong because I didn't experience grief, like this.

I was surprised to eventually come to learn that the stages model was originally introduced in the late 60s and that it was actually developed for terminally ill cancer patients to process their own grief.

And although they've been applied this way for as long as I can remember the stages model was never intended for the bereaved.

My idea is called the grief continuum.

And it suggests that navigating grief, isn't like navigating school that we don't all start at the same place graduate through the same stages to eventually arrive at the same destination.

Rather that grief would be more accurately represented on a bi-directional continuum with acceptance in the center.

And when tragedy arises, we've land on the continuum somewhere below acceptance.

And perhaps for some their first experience is one of denial or anger, bargaining or depression.

After first learning that my 14 year old son and his close friend were last seen leaving the jupiter inlet on a 19-foot fishing boat, and that the coast guard was actively searching for them.

My first experience wasn't any of these.

It was fear and a crippling sense of helplessness.

I mean, if the boys were lost in a field somewhere at least I could go to where they were and walk a grid pattern day and night until I found them.

But this was the atlantic ocean that search lasted seven excruciating days, all while it played out on national news and social media.

It actually turned out to be one of the most extensive searches in the history of the coast guard.

But neither of the boys were ever found.

And exactly what happened at sea that day still remains.

Unclear the period that followed was indescribably painful thoughts, like I'm, not a father anymore.

You couldn't even protect your own son.

And just all the what-ifs led me to stages like worthlessness and guilt and shame and sometimes even revenge.

And while I eventually did arrive at acceptance my journey.

There was anything but linear or even forward.

In fact, I'd approached acceptance in numerous times.

And each time finding a new reason to fall back into despair, like even years later after the incident, I found myself worried that I might be judged for posting a picture of myself on social media.

And it made me wonder is there a certain amount of time that needs to pass before it would be considered socially acceptable for me to be seen smiling again.

And then one moment changed everything.

And suddenly I'd felt something that I hadn't experienced in a really long time, just on the other side of acceptance.

I found subtle optimism, just a small sign that let me know that I might just actually recover from this.

And that led me to curiosity and eventually, courage and forgiveness.

And now a sense of purpose that I'd never imagined.

So is it possible that somewhere on the other side of acceptance grief, holds gifts.

It is possible, and I know that because I've experienced it and so have countless others.

But the point that I want you to take away here is that even if you've reached acceptance and found gifts beyond at any point in time, we could easily hear a song that reminds us of the one that we love and find ourselves in tears.

And if we do it, doesn't mean, we're grieving wrong, because there is no one-size-fits-all model for grief.

What I want you to take away and what I'm trying to illustrate here is that grief, doesn't always start at denial or end that acceptance.

And because it doesn't, I believe the journey should accurately reflect it.

Okay, phil.

So then what was the moment that changed everything? I mean, what did you actually do to surpass acceptance that moment occurred during one of the many times that I'd found myself on the floor curled up in a ball missing my son, except for this time, I saw him quite vividly.

And he looked at me and said, get up.

Dad, it's.

Okay, I'll see you when you get here.

And in that moment, I realize that whatever feeling we may be searching for in grief for me.

It was just a sense to know that life would be.

Okay, again.

Now you might call that healing or acceptance or peace.

But whatever it is that feelings, you're searching for inside is already inside you.

Because what perry's words really showed me is that sometimes we just need to give ourselves permission to feel it.

And I think that this whole notion of giving myself permission, eluded me for so long is because culturally as men, well, we're, basically brainwashed to believe real men, don't cry or share emotion or seek therapy we're supposed to just suck it up and tough it out.

But that strategy doesn't work with grief, because we can never outrun the reminders or outflank the memories.

And you can't deny or insulate yourself from the pain.

The only way that I was able to truly begin to heal from that pain was to truly begin to feel the pain to stop running from it to acknowledge it.

And sometimes to even sit in it.

And over time, I became open to the memories and connected to the reminders.

And if I'm being honest, I used to believe that I needed someone or something else to help me heal my therapist and authority figure to give me permission.

But now I believe one of the greatest acts of self-love we can offer is being our own caregiver.

Now you might think this is silly.

But one of the ways that I used to do that was with post-it notes.

And I'd place them in places where I could see them every day I called these.

My permission slips giving myself permission was the catalyst to me getting up and taking that first step and then the next.

And slowly, I watch the pieces of my life come back together.

And while I do realize that our experiences with grief, yours and mine are different eventually like my son perry, I bet your loved one would tell you to get up too.

So sometimes our grief can really be part of how we choose to honor and respect, the ones we love despite their physical absence.

My hope for all this is that the next time someone finds themselves in their own search for acceptance and googles, how to grieve that to discover the grief, continuum and realize that grief, can't always be confined to five stages, and that regardless of where we land our journeys to acceptance, aren't, always going to be the same.

And that when we finally do arrive at the threshold of acceptance, what will ultimately determine whether we keep falling back into a life of utter despair? Or whether we can push forward into a life of purpose and passion are the methods that we choose to integrate grief into our lives, it's been six years and five months since that admiral told me the search was coming to an end.

And when I relive that moment now I often picture myself saying, no, sir your search may end tomorrow, but mine, my search it's just getting started.

Thank you.