Campfire Stories

AT BEREAVEMENT CAMPS, KIDS AFFECTED BY SUICIDE CAN HEAL TOGETHER

- JAMIE DUCHARME AND KARA MILSTEIN

ONE BY ONE, CHILDREN TOSS NOTE CARDS INTO THE flames, each one bearing the name of a family member lost to suicide: fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters. Each card makes the fire burn a little brighter, a burst of light and memory as the paper singes and crumples. When each child has had their turn, they embrace in a group hug-some crying, some smiling, together in both grief and healing.

Tomorrow, the 72 children, teens, and young adults attending Comfort Zone Camp's three-day suicide-bereavement camp in rural New Jersey, as well as the parents who accompanied them and the "big buddies" with whom the kids are paired, will pack up and return home. The hope is they'll leave feeling emotionally lighter than when they arrived, says Lynne Hughes, who founded the camp more than 20 years ago to give grieving children a place to open up and heal from their losses.

"If you never tell your story, grief doesn't go anywhere; it just hangs out on your shoulder with you," Hughes says. "If you tell your story, it de-powers it."

In recent years, the need for suicide-specific support- particularly for children-has grown, and suicide-bereavement camps are filling the void. Hughes started offering a suicide-loss-specific version of her camp in 2015, and in the past year, attendance rose by about 50%. Another, called Camp Kita in Maine, hosted five campers in its first season 10 years ago; this year, it had to cap enrollment at 75 and limit the wait list. Demand is so high that the founders are raising money to construct permanent campgrounds.