Camp Sunrise helps youth through grief

By Jim Cornelius, Editor in chief The Nugget Newspaper

Losing a loved one can be a particularly devastating blow to a child. The trauma can create feelings of confusion, overwhelming sadness, loss of control, anger, guilt, and abandonment.

For two decades, Camp Sunrise, held for a weekend each June at Suttle Lake United Methodist Camp west of Sisters, has been enabling children ages 7-14 to gather with others who have shared the experience of loss, to express and come to terms with their grief, and to learn practical means of moving forward.

In 2019, 34 children participated in the camp. Sixty-five percent of them had experienced the death of a parent, and many are dealing with multiple deaths in their family. A third of the losses were traumatic deaths such as suicide or homicide.

Rachel Delance, a social worker in Madras, attended the camp in 2003 and came back later as a counselor. She lost her father to a rare form of cancer when she was 13, and struggled to process his death. She worried about her own health and was teased at school. The experience of the camp not only helped her deal with confusing feelings of grief and loss — they shaped her future path.

“It was life-changing,” she said.

Seventeen years down the line, she keeps mementos of the camp — her camp T-shirts and a handcrafted “power stick” — and they are alive in her world.

“I still have my power stick,” she said. “My kids play with it and we talk about Grandpa… For me, Camp Sunrise served as my memorial to him.”

Shawn Diez was a counselor at Sisters Elementary School when he started working as a counselor at Camp Sunrise. His first year, “I was in a cabin with, I think, five kids.”

Today, Diez serves as a co-facilitator of the camp.

He notes that counselors are extensively trained and they learn to tread lightly with the grieving youth, “kind of meeting the individual where they’re at.”

“As you can imagine, many are nervous,” Diez said.

Counselors learn to practice “reflective listening,” Diez noted. Their purpose is not to tell the campers how to feel or even to reassure them, but to “allow them to tell their story.”

That story can be told through art projects, through plays and music, including the camp song, “Keep Me In Your Heart For Awhile.”

The release of handcrafted memory boats into Link Creek marks a release of emotional turmoil and grief. The event is one of the significant symbolic activities at Camp Sunrise.

Photo provided

“The brains of children younger than 14 are usually not developed enough to process this kind of information, traumatic or otherwise, in language,” Maureen Krebs, communications director for Hospice of Redmond explained. “At Camp Sunrise we provide children with nonverbal forms of expression such as art, movement and music in order to help them find a voice to these strange and often frightening feelings of grief. Grief has other faces, too, such as loss of a stable environment, and loss or change related to other meaningful relationships because the adults around the children are also grieving. Children at Camp Sunrise are most comforted by the connection they make with other children who are experiencing similar emotions. Maybe for the first time since the death they don’t feel so alone and different from their peers.”

Delance affirmed the role the counselors play in facilitating this process.

“You don’t have to have answers or responses,” she said. “You just have to be present.”

She recalled the profound impact it had on her to be around others who had shared a similar experience, and counselors who were unafraid to simply sit with a grieving child.

“It makes me tearful,” she said. “These are a lot of amazing people who really cared and were willing to stay in that uncomfortable space.”

There is a remarkable blossoming come Sunday, which features one of the key symbolic rituals of the camp.

Campers construct memory boats using all natural materials — pinecones, sticks, flowers, birdseed, and paper. A procession of campers and counselors wends their way down to the shore of Lake Creek and each camper releases their memory boat, representing the circle and seasons of life. Following the boat release, campers gather to share their thoughts about the weekend while staff prepares them to return to their families.

Siblings often attend camp together, and some young children return to camp several years later as they hit adolescence.

“When they turn 13, they may be experiencing very different emotions than when they were 7,” Krebs said.

The impacts of Camp Sunrise last well beyond a single weekend.

“They gave me tangible coping mechanisms that I could use day-today,” Delance said. “Little things that really helped me process the grief.”

Many volunteers return year after year.

“It really amazes me the work they do and their heart for that,” Krebs said.

Volunteer efforts extend out into the community. East of the Cascades Quilters has stepped up for years.

“Every single camper gets a quilt on their bed,” Krebs said.

Handmade Teddy Bears and other keepsakes offer comfort and connection.

The broader community also supports the program financially through fundraisers and direct donations. It costs about $1,500 per camper to offer the program.

“We do take donations, because this is completely free for children and families,” Krebs said.

Delance is an example of the deep and long-lasting resonance the Camp Sunrise experience has for campers. It influenced her careerpath into social work — where she sees trauma and grief and can provide resources.

“I refer kids to Camp Sunrise whenever I have a family that needs those services,” she said.

Krebs said that youth usually attend Camp Sunrise about a year after experiencing bereavement.

“If it’s less than six months, sometimes it’s a little too recent,” she said.

The June weekend at Camp Sunrise is a powerful experience, both for attendees and for volunteers — taking them through a gamut of emotions, forming attachments and most of all letting bereaved youth know that they are not alone in their grief, that others are feeling what they feel and they understand. That can be a gift beyond price, and one for which Rachel Delance, like hundreds of her peers, continues to cherish.

Camp Sunrise represents a profound effort to support the vulnerable and to heal the hurt.

“It’s a huge benefit to our community,” Delance said.