Balancing Grief with Gratitude

Hamblin’s bog with snow
Hamblin’s bog by Kerry J. Bickford

Balancing Grief with Gratitude 

By Kerry J. Bickford, VOICES Editor

Gratitude is a word that comes up often this time of year. Although it is a reverent expression of grace for some, it’s also a word that can trigger conflicting emotions for others. We can be grateful for the food on our table while others go hungry. We can feel grateful for a roof over our heads when others are homeless. We can be grateful for our children’s success while other children struggle, fail, and even die. How do you reconcile gratitude with the agony of such tragedies, and how do you balance it with grief?

I feel like I have been sleepwalking between gratitude and grief for a while now. The death of my youngest son is undoubtedly the cause, but it goes back even further than that. When you watch someone die from SUD, you are living in a parallel universe to everyone else. You experience the trauma of their dependency long before they die, and when the disease wins and the battle is over, your struggle begins anew. You find yourself surrounded by carnage, wondering how you survived -- and sometimes even wishing you hadn’t. You are plagued with memories -- no matter what you do to practice mindfulness. All you know is that life has lost its meaning while your heart beats on relentlessly, and you feel every painful vibration.

In the early days of my grief, I was numb, but as time went on, and the interval between when I last talked to or hugged my son grew longer, my soul began to ache for his presence. I felt myself going through the motions as the holidays approached, and we had two teenagers in the house. How would we ever get through this? I made plans to be somewhere else for both holidays to take the pressure off me and move away from the pervasive sadness in our home.

We were so blessed to be surrounded by people who understood this void and who rose to the challenge. A dear friend hosted a traditional Thanksgiving, and the kids were distracted by her large, welcoming extended family and the tempting array of food, desserts, and pies. A month later, we headed to Georgia to spend the holidays with my oldest stepson and his wife, arriving on Christmas Eve, which was, again, a perfect distraction. The following morning, we were guests for Christmas brunch at my cousin’s home nearby, complete with a giant candy cane-shaped pastry and tiny strawberry Santas. She made and hung stockings for each of us, and the kids were only too delighted to be spoiled by the thoughtful gifts she tucked inside. My exhausted, grieving heart was grateful for the magic everyone managed to create in the wake of such a difficult time for all of us.

Gratitude is defined as the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and return kindness. That’s precisely what I felt and more. Despite the heartbreak we were all experiencing, there was an undeniable feeling of overwhelming gratitude for the circle that gathered around us in those early agonizing months. Gestures of comfort from loving friends and family made all the difference and showed me that it was still possible to be thankful. While grief cannot be fixed, it can be soothed. We often think there is nothing we can do for someone who is grieving because we know we cannot change the trajectory of their loss. Showing up and doing what we can to relieve the suffering of those who mourn is a gift of immeasurable value. Your energy and love are magical medicine that allows them to focus on the work at hand: surviving.

These days, the things in my life I am most grateful for cannot be seen or touched, and things I once took for granted are on the top of the list. I’ve learned that life is fragile and fleeting, and taking the time to be grateful for the little things is one way to balance gratitude with grief. A daily walk around the bog with our dogs has become a place to reflect on my blessings as well as a place to remember my son. The most important message for me is that no matter how much sadness I’m feeling, there is always something to feel thankful for, even if it is as simple as remembering how lucky I was to love and be loved by someone who is now immortal.