Sharing and caring in a time of grief

Story by WARREN WOLFE • wolfe@startribune.com | Photos by JIM GEHRZ • jgehrz@startribune.com

It's still that way in most schools around the country, but no longer for about 350 K-12 students at 47 Twin Cities area schools, including Chaska High School.

The Growing Through Grief network of support groups, one of the few in the country, began when an Edina mother saw the need after her daughter struggled for years with her father's death and died a 29-year-old alcoholic in 1995.

At age 15, Dooner knows about years of gnawing grief. She was 6 when her father drowned in a lake as she and two sisters stood on shore. They heard him call for help, at first thinking he was joking.

Tears dampened her cheeks as she talked this week about joining the support group when it started last January because "I wanted to help other kids. I thought I'd gotten over it and I knew what that takes.

"But I'm still grieving," she said. "Maybe I'm helping other kids, but they're helping me too. When my dad died, I didn't think about how he'd never see me at a prom, or my wedding."

A weekly healing place

"Katy was really close to her dad, and she struggled so hard after he died of cancer," recalled program initiator Mary McCourtney Heil- man, a retired flight attendant now living in California.

"We tried counseling. I took her and her brother to a support group at our church, but it was mostly adults and she never wanted to talk.

"After she died, I thought there must be some way to help kids," she said. The program grew from her discussions with officials at Park Nicollet Foundation, which sponsors Growing Through Grief.

It began quietly in 1997 at Minnetonka High but soon spread to other schools. Over the past decade, about 770 students have turned to it weekly as a place to heal. Now the program has spread to 10 school districts centered around Methodist Hospital in St. Louis Park, home of four hospice nurses who staff the groups. Two Minneapolis schools may be added in the fall.

Unlike most grief support groups for students, these are ongoing and held in school, with students excused from class to attend. Few drop out.

There is no fee to the students or the schools. Most of the cost -- about $200,000, or $4,000 a year for each group -- is paid by McCourtney Heilman in memory of her daughter, Katy McCourtney.

Sometimes -- as with Katy -- you can tell a child is wrestling with anger, sadness, loneliness, even guilt after the death of someone close, said Sarah Kroenke, a hospice grief counselor who leads the Chaska group and seven others.

"They can get stuck in the process and may act up in school, fall behind in class work, get into drugs or fights or be hard to get along with," she said.

But sometimes they bottle up the hurt.

"Everybody says to me, 'Oh, you're so strong, you really worked things through,' And it's not that at all. It's just sometimes you have to like play that role," said Coffman. Her mother died eight years ago and then her best friend died last year.

"It's like you're protecting your family because you know how much they hurt, so you don't say all the things that are inside," she said.

Friends try to help but often don't know what to say.

"I guess just say you care and you're there for me," Coffman suggested. "But don't tell me that your dog died so you know what I'm going through."

It's easier to talk in the group, Chepokas said. "If I'm feeling crappy, I can say that. I can be angry or happy or cry and not worry that I'll upset anybody."

Her family created a Miracles of Mitch Foundation to honor her little brother, who died at age 9 of cancer. It gives financial assistance to families of children with long-term or fatal illnesses, "and that feels really good, like we can turn our sadness about Mitch into something really positive."

A brag and a bummer

Each group is different, but those in high schools tend to involve more talking. Elementary and junior high groups focus more on creating art or other projects that express emotion. Counselors often work individually with the youngest students -- and at times with older ones.

"The main thing is that this is a safe place where your feelings and where you are in the grief process are respected," she said. "I don't have to do that. The kids make sure of it."

At Chaska High, 17 students in one group broke into two groups last month, and a third one likely will start next year. Each session starts with a brag and a bummer -- a chance for each student to express what they're feeling at that moment.

Last Tuesday, after launching a balloon into the afternoon mist with messages to those who have died, the students talked about the program's value.

"I really need this group," said Chepokas, 18, a junior held back a year when her brother was sick.

"I'll be back next year. I'll be taking college courses, too, but I'll make my schedule work. You guys are like family -- you are family. I need to be here."

Warren Wolfe • 612-673-7253