Thanksgiving: Balancing Gratitude & Grief

From the Same Soil

When your loved one dies, a gaping hole remains in the canvas of your life where they used to be. There is no escaping it... because they are not coming back.

At the same time, the holidays roll in, mercilessly expecting happiness from you. So do many of the people around you.

Still, research has shown the power of gratitude in the brain to rewire paths for thankfulness.

We know it's a "good" thing, yet we feel the incongruence (or the inability) to "be joyful" in the valley of the shadow of death... especially when we discover it's a real place in real time we are living in.

What if the goal was not to avoid any sadness and "just be thankful"? What if we also didn't have to be swallowed in the pain of our loss?

What if gratitude and grief were equally important pieces of the landscape growing in the soil of us... of our hearts? And both could be watered by our honest tears?

What if we could accept the mess of the journey with gentleness, authenticity, and HOPE?

The Grief

My first Thanksgiving as a widow was full of grief. I do remember the grace of sharing time with people that I loved, however, I also needed to mourn.

As a very deep feeler, the weight of my late husband's death by suicide hit me incredibly hard. On Thanksgiving day, I went to the place where he died, though it was cold and lonely, and I grieved him there for a long time. I wept and even howled after the man, the love, the life that I had lost.

Knees in the snow, shivering with cold, I spoke with God, raw and honest, about the horror of it all. And though I was devastated, He met me.

Before I left, I was able to draw a heart in the snow where I knelt.

Today, I will walk through my 6th Thanksgiving without him. What I have learned is that grief cannot be completely controlled. You can stuff it, numb it, and try to avoid it, but the gaping wound remains.

When we are able to feel all of the feelings (anger, sadness.... all of it) in safe places (with the Lord and other safe people), we can actually begin to metabolize the pain that our bodies, minds, and souls are carrying.

I happen to believe that doing this opens more space to see and receive the blessings we do have around us, with gratitude. It cannot happen, however, by simply attempting to bypass our grief in the name of "choosing joy."

I also will emphasize that safety is a critical element in healing. I had a friend who was unable to empathize or grieve with me. While her acts of service were a blessing, she was unable to connect with pain in her own life and therefore, with any of mine. When I cried, she remained blank, and when I named my pain and loss, she encouraged me to "be joyful in all things."

In my first Thanksgiving season after his death, this friend gave me a gratitude entry book, made for listing what you were thankful for. It is no wonder that I set it on the shelf and didn't touch it... for years. Her efforts were noble, but without empathetic connection, they were not going to help.

The Danger of Limitless Grief

A word of caution I have for other deep feelers and authentic grievers of tragedy... Grief still needs limits.

The place my husband passed by suicide became a place of despair. A place I slept on rocks in the night, wailed, and struggled with suicide myself. It also became the location of my first attempt.

While it is important to walk the twisted path of bereavement honestly, we do need to take steps when hopelessness begins to consume us.

Here are a few Thanksgiving survival tips for grievers:

• You are not obligated to attend activities that aren't helpful, but don't isolate completely if you need connection and comfort

• Spend the Holiday(s) with those who are safe, empathetic, and whom you truly feel supported by

• Include life-giving and self-care activities in your schedule (some of mine were salt water floats, making music, time in nature and with friends)

• Have (or make) a list of the people you can reach out to if it's getting too dark (asking them ahead of time may help you both be more prepared in a time of need)

• Find a local grief, widow, or suicide support group with others who "get it"

The Gratitude

Did you know the Lord lead me to begin sending a family Thanksgiving card each year after my husband died? Though it wouldn't have been my idea of good timing, it was a grace. I have, in fact, sent one every year since. Above is the back of our first one.

Why is gratitude a critical part of our life and experience, even in grief?

Focusing on what we are thankful for has been shown to reduce stress, anxiety, and positively impact our physical and mental health in a variety of other ways... and there's no doubt we need that in our experience of suffering.

It is also a way that we heal, find purpose, and keep from becoming myopic in our pain.

Hopelessness kills people. It's a terrible truth.

Gratitude can be a list of reasons to keep living, healing, or to just moving forward the next step.

After my husband died, my children and I began a practice of thankfulness, where on the way to school, the five of us would each take a turn listing three new things we were thankful for. I did my best to keep it fun, and the fact is though some days it felt empty, on others, it could lighten our mood and even bring smiles and laughter.

And yes, although the gratitude entry book remained on the shelf, my everyday journaling practice often included it... or at least the ongoing fight for it.

My Hope for You

This Thanksgiving, may you be able to struggle and celebrate, with honesty. They are both part of the experiential journey. May you release those who do not understand, honor your own limits, and find ways of expressing both your pain and your joy.

They are both there. May they be tenderly held.

With you,

Rachel

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