To be honest, it’s feeling pretty challenging to stay positive right now.
Last weekend’s Valentine’s Day was another opportunity for all of us to tell those we care about how much we love and value them.
But like quicksand beneath our heartbeats, the news that two people lost their lives in the backcountry engulfed the celebration for many.
Those taken were vibrant people who loved the outdoors, and for whom being in nature was part of how they were dealing with our current way of life.
Still, there is a permanence to the feeling of loss in our community right now beyond these most recent deaths.
For the families and friends of those lost in the avalanche in the backcountry of Blackcomb Mountain and the slide in Brandywine, the loss is immediate and penetrating and deep.
For the many first responders who are being frequently called out these days to rescue those in need, there are feelings of loss and trauma as well.
And there are many in our communities who are mourning the loss of family members and friends for numerous other reasons, including COVID-19.
Yet we can’t gather and mourn as a community, we can’t swap stories, we can’t hug and cry freely with our friends, our siblings, our parents—and this is wrenching; it is cutting deep.
Loss is also being felt at a lower level by all of us as we continue to strive to live a somewhat normal life during this pandemic.
As humans, a sense of tribe is part of what makes life enjoyable and fulfilling, but during this most recent lockdown, we are all seriously cut off from each other—family members unable to visit—all of us allowed to be only with those we live with.
It’s numbing.
And spare a thought as well for our kids who have had their whole social construct interrupted for over a year now, while parents have become teachers and counsellors at a depth most never imagined.
Following the ripple out, there is also a sense of loss as we see shops throughout our village shutter.
The hope, obviously, is that the closures are short-term and that the village, famed for its vibrancy and vibe, will be back before too long.
However, there is no escaping that we still have months to go before the light at the end of the tunnel requires us to wear sunglasses.
For those in mourning, we as a community offer you support in whatever ways we can.
For those struggling in your everyday lives, reach out to the community—we are here to support each other.
One of the positives we can hold onto going forward is that this pandemic has really changed the way we talk and think about mental health. Our conversations between each other, in the workplace, inside families about stress and loss and how we are coping are different now than a year ago.
It is one of the reasons why now would be a good time for Canada’s publicly funded healthcare system to cover the costs of psychologists and psychotherapists for those who need them.
It isn’t rocket science to understand that isolation and loneliness has a huge impact on us physically, and that it can take years to see the full impact of it.
Researchers, for example, followed people who survived the devastating fire at Fort McMurray in 2016 and found that a post-traumatic stress response lingered for several years. In a report published by University of Alberta researchers more than three years later, 37 per cent of 3,000 Fort McMurray students surveyed matched the criteria for PTSD, and 17 per cent dealt with depression of moderate severity. It is likely we will see the same thing post COVID-19.
At least we know this is likely, and so we can watch ourselves and watch and reach out to those around us as we all find a way to keeping going through this hell we are in.
We are all in it together, so let’s all do our best to be there for each other.
