Learning to Dance in the Rain: Finding Hope at Comfort Zone Camp
When I talk about my dad, I want people to know about our happiest moments together and how amazing of a parent he was to me. I want them to know about how he was more than just my father – he was a hard worker, a husband, a person who protected others, and, most importantly, my best friend.
Christopher Robert Murphy, my dad, served as a police officer for 25 years. He joined the NYPD at the age of 23, the same year he was diagnosed with type one diabetes.
While his diagnosis initially limited his duties and changed how colleagues viewed him, he eventually earned their respect. He took immense pride in being a police officer, which still inspires me every day.
My dad was the type to give his all, especially when it came to caring for me. As an only child, there was never a moment I didn’t feel loved by him. We also had so many things in common, like our passion for basketball, often playing together right under the hoop he bought me. He taught me countless things, from riding a bike to understanding dog training as I watched him work with our K-9 detection dog.
My dad had a distinct personality – playful, kind, and VERY honest. Once, when my grandmother had an off day with her cooking (which rarely happened), he didn’t hesitate to tell her the food was terrible! She got so angry, and he just sat there with his sweet eyes, looking at her with a grin on his face, knowing what he had just created: a fight he shouldn’t have even started in the first place because he could not just keep his mouth shut!
As I grow older, I see these same traits in myself. I’m proud to share his characteristics, even though at times it makes me miss him even more.
When I think about the day my dad died it serves as my most painful memory. On a summer morning, instead of swimming in our pool, I learned he was in the hospital with diabetic and heart-related problems. After spending time at a friend’s house, I returned home to find family members gathered in our living room. When I asked my mom where daddy was, she simply said, “Daddy is in heaven.” I collapsed, screaming “no” through my tears. My father died on a beautiful sunny day, August 25th, 2021, at just 52 years old.
Losing a parent is one of the most profound experiences a child can face. At age 10, I found myself in a world without my father’s steady presence. It left a void within me that seemed too big for me to comprehend, and I started to struggle to make sense of my emotions. I bottled up my emotions and pretended to be okay when I wasn’t. The pressure of hiding my grief instead of truly showing how I felt became overwhelming.
Eight months later, my mom discovered Comfort Zone Camp. Initially, I was hesitant, worried it would be like other grief groups I’d attended – sad and depressing. But from the first night, when we learned about “Challenge by choice,” I felt more at ease. The freedom to choose which activities to join helped me relax and open up at my own pace.
CZC showed me ways to understand grief and develop coping skills. In one memorable activity, during the challenge course, we had to navigate a rope maze blindfolded. The lesson became clear when we realized we could only complete it by asking for help. This made me realize that leaning on others during difficult moments is okay.
The “big buddies” assigned to each child are also part of what makes camp so special. These volunteers, whether they’ve experienced loss or not, choose to support grieving kids like me and for that I am so grateful. Camp has also helped me form lasting friendships with other campers who understand my experience. Despite only spending three days together, it often feels like we have known each other forever.
I now know what it is like to have friends who understand me, and while they may have different losses or cope differently we can be there for each other and feel supported on our grief journey.
Comfort Zone Camp has given me so much in the time I have been going: from writing heartfelt notes to our loved ones at bonfire, to sharing group hugs, to laughing during activities, CZC creates a space where everyone truly understands each other. Each time I leave, I’m already looking forward to returning.
Because of CZC I have learned to “dance in the rain” – discovering moments of joy even while grieving. I know now that every emotion is valid – and that it’s okay to cry, to remember, to grieve, and yes, even to laugh and find happiness again.
Though I only had ten years with my dad, the quality of our time together holds the depth of a lifetime. I know he would be proud not only of who I’ve become but also that we found this healing place. His presence stays with me always.
