The Bonds We Form With Clients

by Chris Johnson

It may not come as a surprise to many of us, but tragedy is one of the most powerful things that can bring people together. There are, of course, happier occasions that connect us too. However, there is a strong and unfortunate reason I am writing this.

As both a counsellor and a marriage celebrant, I have the privilege of getting to know my clients personally. People often open up to me in ways they may not open up to their family or friends.

In counselling, they share their experiences so I can support them as they work through challenges. As a marriage celebrant, couples share their story so I can understand their relationship, capture what makes it special and communicate that to the people who know and love them best.

A wedding ceremony also gives me the opportunity to meet the couple’s families. At the end of the ceremony, I am often greeted with hugs and heartfelt thanks from two families who have come together for the occasion.

The gratitude and love can be all-encompassing. For a brief time, I am included in the celebration.

I once had the mother of a bride ask me to stay after the ceremony because she wanted to make sure I had eaten before driving home. Weddings are filled with beautiful moments, and being welcomed by a family in that way is something incredibly special.

But sometimes, the story does not have a happy ending.

One couple I married experienced a devastating tragedy when, the following year, the groom fell to his death while working with children in a cave.

I had briefly met the couple before their engagement, which may have influenced their decision to ask me to marry them, but we did not know each other well at the time.

To create a unique and personalised ceremony, I ask every couple a range of questions. I learn about their relationship, their bond, the tone they would like for their ceremony and their shared sense of humour.

Yes, couples should be able to laugh at their wedding—and this couple certainly did.

It was not even because of anything I had done. The groom was brilliant, entertaining and a natural performer. He made sure everyone gathered on that beach understood exactly how much he loved the woman he was about to marry.

A year later, when I heard that a male rock-climbing instructor had fallen and lost his life, I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach and the face at the same time.

But what could I do?

I was not a family member or a close friend. I held a different position—a unique role that had briefly allowed me into a very personal part of their lives.

The second couple whose story has influenced this article were friends before they began planning their wedding.

Their ceremony was also held on a beach beneath the sun, with children running around and occasionally making their way through the ceremony. Family was—and remains—the most important thing to this couple.

Last year, their three-year-old son died.

I could say so much about this little boy: his strength, how hard he fought and how, despite everything he was facing, his smile and attitude were contagious. At times, you could almost forget the battle he was enduring.

I could speak about his parents and his brothers. I could speak about how unjust and unfair it all feels.

However, I never want to disrespect anyone’s privacy, and I am mindful of how much should be shared about either of these tragedies. Instead, I will focus on what these experiences have taught me.

When the announcement of this little boy’s death was shared, I cried.

Of course, many others cried too—family members, friends, teachers and other parents. But this couple, these two beautiful people, had also made a lasting mark on my life.

In some ways, this is similar to the connection I form with every couple or client I work with. Their story and my own experience briefly intersect to create something heartfelt, meaningful and, in the case of a wedding, often magical.

But the connection does not always end when the ceremony or appointment is over.

I become privy to people’s stories and relationships. They share private moments, meaningful memories and details about not only the foundations of their lives, but also the experiences that have continued to shape them.

When tragedy strikes, I have discovered that I often feel the loss through the emotional connection I formed with their story.

A Note About Grief

First, please be kind to yourself.

Although grief is often described as a process, it is not consistent and it is not the same for everyone. You cannot predict or plan how you will feel after a loss.

You may experience sadness, confusion, disbelief or numbness. You may also experience anger, fear or even guilt.

These emotions can crash over you like unexpected waves. Be gentle with yourself when they do.

Lean on the people who support you. They may also be feeling lost within the same experience.

Be aware that you may not feel the same emotions at the same time. One person may need to talk while another needs silence. One may feel sadness while another feels anger or numbness. These differences can sometimes cause people to unintentionally trigger or misunderstand one another.

There may not be a problem that can be solved.

Sometimes, all you can do is remind each other that you are still there. Share your emotions and thoughts when you can, but also share stories and memories.

Grief is not easy.

I have lost my father to cancer and my best friend to a heart attack. I understand how tempting it can be to withdraw and try to carry the pain alone.

But you have already lost someone important. Try not to push away everyone who is still there beside you.

You do not have to carry grief alone.