Vale - Lynette Taylor, Glen Humphris, Kevin King and Josh Prestney -
your shift is over; rest easy.
Throughout these past days, expressions of Victorians and Australians, 'standing together' have been readily seen as our community grieves the death of 4 Police members killed in the line of duty. The iconic Flinders Street Station bathed in blue is one such 'expression'. It is symbolic of Melbourne and Victoria for many reasons; its the public gateway to the CBD and the place where Police are most often seen and accessed. It sits at a key intersection of foot, rail, tramway and emergency services traffic; traffic which symbolically provides a 'lifeblood' flow across our community.
Now, twelve days later, with the private funerals of the fallen officers conducted, we stand together as a community and mourn this tragic loss of life. In writing this, I am acutely aware of the deep sense of loss and pain that the families of our fallen officers are experiencing, and I will forever be thankful for the generous way in which they have allowed us, as a community, to enter into their 'private space' at such a 'tender' time for them; their allowance of this has helped us 'the blue family' collectively grieve. Grief is part of life because grief is a response to death and loss - and 'loss' happens. (see the beyond blue article https://resources.beyondblue.org.au/prism/file?token=BL/0390 for a helpful fact sheet which provides useful and practical pointers in processing grief). Therefore, when death and loss impacts our immediate 'family' grief is experienced and it's crucial that individually and collectively we respond appropriately.
Collective grief is painful because it both precipitates the flow of further grief and it compounds what we experientially feel. The outpouring of grief experienced by members of the Police family is real and deep. Beyond the Blue line, the general public also experience the grief that comes from knowing that life has been taken in the service of their community; the ultimate sacrifice has indeed be made, as Fr Tom in the Josh Prestney's service today, reminded us. "Greater love has no one than this; that they lay down their life for their friends." The 'friends' in this case is both the Blue family and the community of Victoria; we, the 'friends' have shared the collective grief because of this sacrificial service provided US.
Collective grief can also provide a healing impetus because it can birth a heart of true wisdom in individuals seeking healing and integrated wellbeing. Grief deposits within us a spiritual and emotional appreciation that is not found at the periphery of human existence but at the very centre of what it is to be human, to be alive. When we open ourselves to the rhythm of sharing what we feel, with a trusted friend or colleague, and allow that person or persons to engage with us, we begin an explorative process of understanding who we are and what we are thinking and valuing. That process helps us grow in our appreciation for both the one we grieve and our current circumstance within the community of people we call 'family'.
Each of us will grieve differently; in that sense there is an 'individual' aspect to our grief and it's important that we allow ourselves to process things accordingly. At the same time, the collective nature of this time of grief indicates the significance of us taking some risk to be vulnerable with trusted friends and family who will help us process the 'collective' aspect of the grief we face as a community. There will be a day when we collectively will be able to honour our fallen officers with a Public Memorial Service befitting the nature and circumstances of their sacrifice but until then, let us enter into appropriate ways of collective grief that moves us toward healing while never forgetting their sacrifice.
