Psychologist Brings Grief Support to West Coast
By Luke Schmaltz, VOICES Newsletter Editor
Randi Schalet is a licensed psychologist living in Berkeley, CA. Recently, she became the first person in the region to facilitate a peer grief support group for The Sun Will Rise (TSWR).
Schalet’s grief journey began three years ago when her 26-year-old son, Kealynd, died from an overdose.
“Kealynd began struggling with substance use at the age of 18,” Shalet begins. “Those eight years of addiction were beyond belief in terms of craziness. He was arrested many times, and he had lots of ups and downs. The year he died, however, he was doing well.”
Touch and Go
“He went to a treatment program in Southern California, and for the first time he truly believed in being drug-free and following the 12 steps. He was living in a sober home and working full time at Goodwill. He was being much more reasonable.”
“He had one relapse but then was clean for six months, which was a record for him. I went to visit him in Southern California for the weekend. We had a really nice time – he acted kind and considerate, which was something he had not done for a long time. He was able to think about other people and not just his own needs. I met his friends and his sponsor. I left on a Sunday and on the following Tuesday, he left the sober house and met up with someone he met through a dating app, which was how he got involved with drugs in the first place.”
“Kealynd was in a sober house where they said that if he relapsed, he could come back, which was really important. That’s why we picked this place. But, when he tried to come back after this latest relapse, they wouldn’t let him. They claimed that he could only come back if he contacted them within 24 hours of leaving, a stipulation that was not previously clarified.”
“By this time, he had been gone for too long. The situation with the sober house made him feel hopeless. He liked the place and had made friends – it was his community. After being denied re-entry, he died of an overdose. He was staying at a Motel 6 and the police found him.”
A Journey Begins
“The first year after Kealand died was horrific,” Schalet continues. “I was living on a boat, and I felt like I couldn’t be isolated anymore, so I moved to an apartment in Berkeley near my daughter.”
“I went back to work after just a few weeks. It was very hard to be a therapist, especially when people were talking about their losses. I had been working with somebody who had just lost his son, and I had to end that therapy because it was too hard. I couldn’t be crying and trying to help someone at the same time.”
“As a psychologist, I never understood grief the way I do now,” Schalet continues. ”When I meet a grieving person, I have a whole new level of understanding what they are going through.”
“I’ve always liked support groups. My son and daughter were both adopted, and I had facilitated a peer-run group for adoptive parents for 10 years. Very soon after the loss, I started looking for support groups. I am originally from Massachusetts, and I had been going to a Learn 2 Cope support group which was very helpful.”
Given her background in peer support group facilitation, Schalet saw a potential way to apply her experience to grief support. Regardless, she had to wait until she was ready. “I mentioned my interest in this to Robyn Houston-Bean at the 2023 Finding Connections In Grief Conference, but it took me another year to actually do it, because it was still so raw,” she says. “I didn’t think I could stand to endure other people’s grief along with my own. But this past summer, I took the Peer Grief Facilitator Training, and now we are starting this group here in Berkeley.”
Importing Support
“There is a huge need for peer grief support here, and there are no groups like the ones offered by TSWR,” Schalet explains. “I searched a lot, looking for a grief support group I could attend either in person or online, but there is nothing in this area for substance-use-related grief. I am ready to start facilitating an in-person meeting. I am excited. I hope people show up and I hope it grows to be a resource here.”
Schalet cites the effectiveness of peer grief support from an individual perspective. “Some of the concepts state, ‘Everyone grieves in their own way’ and ‘There is no right or wrong way to grieve.’ I found these ideas useful, because the way you feel and the way you act can seem quite bizarre. I was a therapist all day at work, then I would drive home, park, and like clockwork, I would start sobbing. This happened to me daily, after being fine all day long. It felt so weird, but it was almost like I had to do it.”
“It doesn’t take a lot, especially in the first year, to come across something that triggers your emotions. Honestly, I didn’t think I could live through it. It was so painful, and I still miss my son so terribly. We were very close, and because of his substance use, we spoke every day. I was always monitoring him. Wherever he was I visited constantly.”
“It was also hard for his sister. I was a single parent when I adopted them. We were a small, intense, close family. My daughter hasn’t recovered at all from Kealynd’s death. She didn’t seek therapy or peer support. I feel like his loss is still quite fresh for her.”
Finding Meaning
As she endured the loss of her son, Schalet eventually became determined to find meaning amid the pain and suffering. “There's a great book by David Kessler called Finding Meaning,” she says. “There are many different ways of finding meaning. The people at The Sun Will Rise do this by giving back to the community through facilitating groups, hosting events, and helping people who struggle with substance use. Similarly, I have been able to make meaning in a lot of small, personal ways.”
“When Kealynd was using, he was homeless from time to time. There are a lot of unhoused people in Berkeley. Unfortunately, it is well known for this. I have such a different way of interacting with these folks because of my son. I talk to them, and I give them things. I carry blankets, shoes, clothes, snacks, and water in my car. I ask, ‘Can I give you something?’ and then I have a conversation with the person.”
“Some of these folks have substance-use-related problems such as meth psychosis – which my son had from time to time – where they are talking to themselves, gesturing, and doing lots of crazy stuff. I treat them like they are Kealynd. I say hello and ask if they need something. My son was like that, and he was just a regular human being who deserved care and respect just like every one of these people do.”
“Another way of finding meaning is allowing the experience of grief to change you,” Schalet says. “Living through grief helps us evolve as people. Grief doesn’t become any less intense. Rather, things grow around the grief. It becomes a smaller part of your being, but when you feel it, it is still a very big thing.”
“A year after Kealynd died, I found out I had very serious cancer. Ironically, when he was going through all the difficulties of substance use, I said to him, ‘You know, this is going to give me cancer.’ I was stressed to the absolute maximum coping with his addiction. It took a year of treatment, but right now I am cancer-free.”
“When I was younger, I was a writer. I wrote two novels,” Schalet says. “The second year after Kealynd died, I started writing about him, his life, and his addiction. I got a very long piece about his death published and I feel so good that it is out there. So now, I am writing poetry about Kealynd and getting it published. I have been successful at this because the emotion is still so raw. “
Kayaking on Spy Pond
By Randi Schalet
I lied when I said he’d been clean for a year
It made a better story
Addict resisting the call of meth, riding the wave of desire when it hit
How big he felt, and bigger
Then suddenly, dead in the shower
Did water trickle from the shower head onto his naked body?
“I’m cold,” his last thoughts, “This time I’ve done it”
Or did his heart just stop?
The furniture smashed, beds torn from the wall, in a double-queen room in that worn beach motel
The coroner hands me a paper bag; a forged check, a crumpled dollar bill, placed delicately on top of his dirty clothes
Outside, I place his jeans to my nose, inhale his sour smell
3rd August soon, dreaded month. Too soon not to touch?
I would have found him if he were anywhere on Earth
Once, our sailboat ground to a halt, balanced on an invisible rock
“It’s OK, mama, I’ll get rope”
Suddenly he jumped, waded to shore in muck, his chance to be my hero
Kayaking on Spy Pond, rushing to return the rental to the dock
Dipping the blade in, then out
Quiet, except for the shaking aspens, except for the hum of traffic I can’t quite see behind the rocks and trees
All that he’s missed, this sunny day
Randi Schalet’s peer grief support group meets on the first Monday of every month at 7:00 p.m. at the Berkeley Town/House Library.