Chutes and Ladders...or The Game of (Grief) Life

In this day of video games and electronic entertainment, the enjoyment of sitting down with the family and playing a board game has become a distant memory. I remember sitting on the floor, challenging my brother to Monopoly, chess, Clue, and Battleship. Sometimes those games became quite heated, but they passed the time for us.

As I grew older and began my family, we took time to play board and card games with the girls, especially while camping and vacationing in our 5th wheel. Skip-Bo and Phase 10 were the favorites, but we shied away from Monopoly and Dad's "special" rules. The girls enjoyed the time together, and it created some special memories.

Those classic games, especially the ones for young children, are not being played as they once were. When I taught kindergarten and first grade, I had to show most of the students how to play Hi-Ho Cherry O and Connect 4. The one game that tended to be long and frustrating for the kids was Chutes and Ladders.

I recently had the "pleasure" of introducing my 3 year old granddaughter to Chutes and

Ladders. She had gotten many games for Christmas, and she was wanting to get this one open. Knowing that it could be difficult for a young one to understand all the rules, I made sure to explain them carefully and show her how to go up the ladders and down the chutes. I also stressed that it was just for fun; no need to get upset.

As we hit the spinner and took our turns, there were trips up and down the board. Although she didn't like going back down, she thought it was funny when Gigi slid down farther. In the end, I was once again beaten by a toddler.

I have tried to explain to others that grief is like a game of Chutes and Ladders. Every day is a new turn on the board. Some days you spin a 1 and move ever so slowly on your journey. Other times your turn produces a large gain and you are so excited. Then there are those events that shoot you up the ladder, far along the grief journey. You feel good, happy even. You think you have gotten your emotions under control. Meanwhile, a few more turns later, you land on a chute. Some trigger - a significant day, a song, a person - sends you sliding back to that place you thought you had already passed. Maybe it's a short slide, or you could feel like you're starting right back at the beginning. The good thing is, no matter where you land, you can start moving forward again on the next spin. As you follow the path set before you, your emotions will continue to follow that pattern of ups and downs. Hopefully, the further you go, the more ups you will find.

Just like a game of Chutes and Ladders or Monopoly, sometimes it seems grief goes on forever. Unfortunately, grief doesn't have a finish line. It's a never ending road that you navigate the rest of life. But, just as there are trips you take so many times you no longer need a map, the grief journey gets a little easier to traverse. You learn to avoid the pot holes and how to get around the jams. You figure out who is the best shotgun rider to have helping you read the map. The longer you "play the game", the more experienced you become with the rules.

If you are in your own version of Grief Chutes and Ladders, I hope you remember that you can continue to move forward, no matter how many times you slide down. If you are an observer to someone else's grief, be a good sport by encouraging and supporting your person as they navigate their journey.