Grief and Gratitude

Grief and Gratitude: My Traveling Companions Through Both Tragedy and Triumph

Monday, June 8, 2020

Last week, amidst the COVID-19 Pandemic, George Floyd’s death, the resulting protests & riots, and my duties as a Hospice Chaplain, I found myself alternating between being raw, being full of rage, and being numb.  When the phone rang on Thursday evening and the name of one of my White friend’s popped up on the screen, I didn’t know if I had the energy and empathy to answer.  Knowing that when she and I call each other, it’s usually important, I answered the call.  

“Hello”, I said.  Through her tears and palpable pain, she asked, “How do you do it?  How do Black people get up every day and keep going?”  Her question gave me pause.

In my gut, I immediately and intuitively knew the answer, but it took a few minutes to express what I knew in words.  My ability to get up every day and continue to be a contributing member of my community and this country hinges on my ability to be continually present with both grief and gratitude.

I can’t brush by injustice and pain, and rush to the joy.  If my heart is open to joy, it will inevitably be open to pain.  That is what being fully alive is all about. Pain and grief are messy.  They can hijack me at a moment’s notice.  When I read the headlines about the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor or Sheriff's Deputy Sgt. Damon Gutzwiller.  When I see my city being boarded up for fear of damage from looting. When the people of Flint, Michigan don’t have clean water to drink.  When people of Asian descent are being harassed because of ignorance related to the Coronavirus.  When Native Americans are protesting at Standing Rock.    When processing pork is prioritized over producing PPE for healthcare workers.  The every day events in our country could easily depress and immobilize me.  It’s challenging to be fully present, discern how to respond, and keep going.

For me, the answer lies in being grateful.  Make no mistake, I am not at all grateful for the grief and pain caused by the current events in our country.  Yet in the midst of the grief, there is still much for me to be grateful for.  I am grateful to be able to have food on my table and a roof over my head.  I am grateful that my family and friends have been checking on me throughout the shelter in place.  I am grateful for the technology that enables me to offer Spiritual Care to patients over the phone.  I am grateful for my health.  I am grateful for Schitt’s Creek and the message of hope that it is possible for a society to exist without racism, homophobia and xenophobia.  When I pause and take stock of all that I have to be grateful for, I am able to keep going.

So today, with grief and gratitude at my side, I will get up, suit up, and show up. 
I will keep going, and I will answer the call.