Every Wednesday

Every Wednesday I will post something about grief. Sometimes it will be a reflection on an aspect of grief’s landscape. Now and then I will share from my own journey of grief, because in the sharing of our stories we find strength and build a community of people that support one another.

If you would like to be notified whenever I post something new, please enter your email here.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013


Feeling gratitude after a death is hard. Someone I loved is gone. A life I loved is over. I have no ambitions or dreams. I don’t care about anything or anyone, not even myself.

Even though I know that Evelyn would want me to be happy again, this does not free me up to go dancing or even to enjoy ice cream.

Gratitude is being thankful for what I have, not what I don’t.

That's a hard statement to grasp.

To the Inuits in the Arctic, life was a constant battle to survive. The beauty and sweetness of living was offset by the harsh living conditions. A long life was never assumed, not even an additional year. There was gratitude for being alive today and for the beauty of the sun, even if it rose for only a moment low on the horizon.

It was not enough to survive if there was no celebration.