Grateful for Grief

Loss, sorrow, and mourning remind us we’re alive.

This Thanksgiving season I am grateful for grief. Why? Because it reminds us, we’re alive. Grief returns our attention to what matters most in life … but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the many people I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving with over the years. Bringing to my mind’s eye the faces of a multitude of friends and family I love and care for. This both gladdens and saddens me, because a good number of them are no longer in contact with me. Whether it’s because the beautiful being has left their physical body, we’ve moved away from each other physically, and/or we’ve journeyed apart relationally; there’s a distance between us, and it grieves me.

Yet, there’s a reason why we have the phrase, “good grief”. It’s because:

Grief, for lack of a better word, is good. It means you have an open and loving heart.

As I’ve been reflecting the Thanksgivings of yesteryear: I think of the elders who blessed me greatly with their attention, wisdom, and presence. What a gift they were, and remain! For instance, I have so many fond memories of sitting at the kids’ table with teenage and young adult cousins who inspired me on my path into adulthood. I also fondly recall the aunts, uncles, greats, and grands who joyfully opened their homes, gave good cheer, and provided lavish feasts for the body and spirit!

While the majority of these miracles are no longer in my life: Their light fills my heart. Remembering them brings both a gleam and a tear to my eyes.

This time of reflection has also brought me back to my young adulthood. When I was twenty-four, I joined the air force and got to live places I never would have otherwise—like San Antonio, Tucson, and Las Vegas. These moves and experiences, like gifts from heaven, led to more incredible relationships than I can count on all my fingers and toes! The seasons I spent with folks in Texas, Arizona, and Nevada helped me realize:

A wealthy life is best measured not in fortune and fame, but in friendships.

And here’s where the sharpness of grief really kicks in for me. You see, that was the part of my journey when I started doing life together with people. In many ways, it was like we were married. Do you know what I mean? We were joined at the hip. That, I believe, is why the present, and presumably permanent, “distance” between us—physical, relational, and otherwise—breaks my heart a bit. Can you relate?

And, this pang, this hurt in my heart, is the symptom of good grief—and I’m grateful for it. Why? Because it reminds me, I’m alive and in love. It returns my attention to what matters most in life: Welcoming, including, caring for, weeping with, celebrating with, embracing, and loving one another.

Another aspect of my retrospective journey includes the times and traditions I shared and developed with my two ex-wives. As I savor these moments, I’m simultaneously keenly aware of the unfulfilled plans we made for a future together; as well as the beautiful memories we made together that can never be taken away. It’s like two lives that I had were lost, which I both grieve and am grateful for. Those losses are truly the fertile soil from which my present life, which is rich with relational abundance, grew from. And, those wounds still ache.

This brings me to this year’s Thanksgiving. You see, as 2023 turns into 2024, my wife and I will be heading off on a new adventure. We’re moving to Sicily—although we’ll mostly be in Scotland—for three-to-five years. My wife is a civil servant, got a position over there, and we couldn’t be more thrilled! Imagine getting a job that also helps you fulfill more than half of your bucket list. This is that! As we’ll get to travel and experience Europe and beyond. And, it also breaks our hearts to have an ocean between us and those nearest and dearest to us.

That’s why this year’s Thanksgiving was simultaneously heart-warming and heart-hurting. For me, the gladness of being around twenty-five family members was mixed with grief. Knowing we’re leaving in just over a month, brought an ache to my heart as I talked with loved ones who I won’t see as much for a few years. And, while I’m the last person to enjoy any negative emotions, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’m grateful for my grief.

Hugs & Love,

Lang (aka “Dr. Love”)