From Grief to Grace: The Healing Power of Storytelling Through Video

It makes me happy knowing my dad experienced a full sense of family and home before he died. It was something serving in special operations had made hard for him throughout his decade-and-a-half-long career. I also know he had pushed himself in his final deployment to Afghanistan to an optimal state in his profession as a Navy SEAL – something I know he was immensely proud of. To this day, my dad’s last years of his life serve as a reminder to me – I am not done and there is a lot of work to do.  

As I find myself crawling closer to 36, the age my dad was when he was killed, there is a deep depression boiling up in my stomach. Have I lived a full life, a life he’d be proud I’ve lived? Have I honored his memory? Why do I expect myself to live a double life once I cross 36 years of age? These questions have seared my DNA code ever since.

I’ve spent the last 19 years honoring my dad in as many actions as I could. I’ve held tight to the special operations community and I’ve pushed myself to be a light where I am drawn. I’ve pushed myself to grow in my faith, especially as a husband and family man. I’ve fought to let go of my anger and am working on being nicer to those closest to me – something I’ve struggled with for decades. I question my ability to lead those around me daily, but put my faith in God and the people he sends my way. So, here I am. 

Next year, it will be 20 years since the loss of my dad and the 18 men of Operation Red Wings. 

The world continues to turn, and the saturation of shouts gets louder and more tense. I worry for the future but not very much because my faith has promised me today and that is enough. Small and nostalgic things remind me of the past and make my childhood taste like better times. It’s enough to constrict my throat and make me think of my dad and his daughters – the man he raised me to be and the conversations I wish we could still have. 

It is such an emotional hurricane, but it brings me back to where I am. I’m grateful for the painful memories and I hope they help me be a better person tomorrow. I’m grateful for my wife and the life she has dedicated to me: she holds me fast in reality and the measure of love I have for her. 

So the big question is, why do we deserve to tell stories? How dare we?

In emotions, we’ve seen it all. Storytelling is emotions and we know when you are authentic and when you are not. As a storyteller, I am a gatekeeper and I strive for authentic conversations and an open and vulnerable dialogue because that is where communication happens -it’s where words stick and people change. So, back to my question, why us? Because we are the coach who tells you when you are lying to yourself, which is holding you back from being successful. 

Success happens in stories told right and this team is destined for a lot. Don’t believe me, test us.

Thank you for reading this, I hope it makes the world a little smaller.