Grief and fentanyl loss: Why ‘bearing witness’ matters so much

By Carole Trottere and Drew Scott

TROTTERE: Recently, I joined a small group of parents for a meeting with University of Oklahoma professor Suzette Grillot, who is writing a book about the fentanyl crisis. Everyone in the room had lost a child or grandchild to the opioid epidemic. For more than four hours, you could have heard a pin drop as each person shared their story and Professor Grillot simply listened. She witnessed our grief, our pain and our love for the people we lost.

It got me thinking about what a profound gift that kind of witnessing truly is.

Sitting with someone in their pain isn’t easy. We often worry that we’ll say the wrong thing or feel compelled to make it better. But grief cannot be fixed.

What grieving people need most is someone willing to be present, to acknowledge their loss, and to validate their pain without judgment or the need to offer solutions.

Having someone witness our grief is also a way of honoring the person who has died. We want the world to know, and not forget, that our children were here. They laughed, loved, dreamed and mattered. They were so much more than the way they died.

So if you have a friend who is grieving, by all means send a card or flowers. But the most meaningful gift you can give is your presence. Sit with them. Listen. Bear witness to their loss.

Sometimes that quiet act of compassion says more than words ever could.

Carole Trottere is an advocate for addressing the fentanyl/opioid crisis. Her son Alex died in 2018 of a fentanyl poisoning. She has been published in Newsday, Psychology Today and other regional publications. She is currently the media director for The Jazz Loft in Stony Brook. She lives in Old Field.

SCOTT: The thing nobody tells you about loss is a few months or a year in, expect to see less and less of your friends and even some relatives. It’s not that they don’t care about you, the balance is off.

You’re no longer a couple, so some friendships have become strained and your presence has become awkward for many of those former close ties. They don’t know what to say to you, or how to act with you. The phone calls drop off and you will feel loneliness.

This is where you have to set about to create a new you, a new life, new hobbies, learn a new skill, hang out at a new restaurant or bar, make new friends. You have to keep going and don’t let stagnation or self pity set in.

Drew Scott is a 50-year broadcast journalist who lost his twin granddaughter Hallie Rae Ulrich that he and his late wife raised, to a heroin/fentanyl laced overdose in 2017. Drew helped found and operate Opioid Task Forces in several Long Island towns. He now serves as communications director for the Town of Brookhaven.

_{Top: Stock photo (Photo by Ann)}