I am swimming upstream like a salmon, but gratitude is becoming grating. Joining in the grating is the over used word, blessing.
“Count your blessings!” “Aren’t we blessed!” “Have an attitude of gratitude!” “Be grateful!”
I am all done bearing the weight of those admonitions and proclamations. Done.
Having been chided to “be grateful, you have a surviving child,” and “don’t focus on Justin’s death, count your blessings” when I was not bemoaning my lack, I have a visceral reaction to those callous exhortations. They are offered with lightening speed, a reactionary knee-jerk response to feeling uncomfortable with another soul’s pain.
I get it. Being present to someone else’s pain is like being caught unaware in a water sprinkler. The sudden cold water is startling and you catch your breath, but you aren’t hurt, you are wet. Encountering a suffering soul is startling and uncomfortable, your clothes feel cold and sticky to your skin, but you aren’t hurt, there is nothing threatening you. You are uncomfortable.
I may mention that I miss Justin, but I will only say that to my safe people. My safe people don’t jump in with “well, at least you have a surviving child and be grateful for his life.” My safe people understand that if I express a valid emotion, that I am not standing in ungratefulness. I am standing in child loss and yes, I do miss that child.
And blessing. I have learned that there is no such thing as good or bad in light of being blessed. Jesus talks about the blessed ones as the ones who mourn. To experience a blessed life is to live life with all its death and horror, and its joy and laughter.
For near ten years I have wondered what I did to chase God’s “blessing” from our house. I am now realizing that God’s blessing lives in a house of mourning. God’s blessing dwells in sorrow. If I only count my blessings that are judged good in the world, then I will miss the face of God in the heart that is broken. A grape only becomes wine when it is crushed, until then it lives a very solitary life. Crushed, it leaves its former shape and life and becomes part of a new existence.
I keep an Affirmation Journal, not a gratitude or blessing journal. Affirmation is a confirmation or ratification of the truth, something exists that is true, it means to confirm that something is genuine, and authentic. I collect and acknowledge affirmations in my life.
I write down kind words that come my way through friends or strangers. I extract wisdom from other wandering souls and jot it down in my affirmation journal, and I tell them their thoughts and words were affirming and brought life. Then they are aware of the power and gift they hold in their words.
I completed an assignment for a photography class, it was to take a daily gratitude photo. My gut twitched as you can imagine. I decided to rework the assignment to fit me, I took photos in the light of the affirmations I have received through people and nature.
When I acknowledge an affirmation, it begs the question of what am I affirming? To say I am grateful or blessed can halt the investigation. Affirmation coaxes exploration and definition. Affirmation requires me to be intimate and active in my pursuit of life.
Mondays affirmation. Daylilies at dawn. They grow with abandonment, thrive on neglect, and turn their faces to the catch the first light. They affirm for me that I am glad to be awake at dawn visiting the lilies.
Tuesday’s Affirmation. This guy. Chip. This is his grumpy face. He affirms for me that even when I am angry, I can still turn my face to the sun. It’s okay to be angry. Even chipmunks are cross sometimes. His presence reminds me that after many years we can afford bird seed. It is a luxury to feed the birds, and I am mindful of every handful of seed that we share with our furred and feathered friends. He was cross because the bunnies, squirrels, and assorted birds arrived for breakfast before he did.
Wednesday. Micah. Micah is the dog of our grief. He was young when Justin died and has grown with us through our grief years. He has seen it all. On purpose, he would do something to make us laugh, he is clever like that – like this shot. He is reserved and aloof, he is part Chow, Akita, and a bit of Alaskan Malamute – very independent. But he is attuned to our moods and our needs, and humbles himself to be silly. He affirms everything that is good in friendship and companionship. He is more than a pet, he is a trusted confidante.
Thursday. Hyde. Our son’s rescue Husky mix. Our surviving son does not like his picture taken, I honor and respect his privacy. Hyde affirms that I have a surviving child and that there are opportunities for new memories. There will always be pain, but where there is Hyde, there is life. Hyde affirms that life is about new opportunities every second. The journey of a rescue dog has parallels to the grief journey. Hyde will always have the pain of his past, but he lives with grace and dignity.
Friday. Goldfinches. They came to us before we put up the thistle feeder, almost like they were coaxing us to engage with the yard and be outdoors. Now we have a little flock of them to keep us company. They affirm that there are seasons when our feathers are dull and gray, but then the season comes when we wear and see bright colors again. And it’s okay if we cycle back into dull and gray, life comes in seasons and cycles.
Whatever season you find yourself, gray or bright colors, be affirmed. Be whole and wholly present to whispers of affirmation, they will find you.
Your phrase “safe people” hit me like a ton of bricks this morning. It was an “aha!” moment — a moment I needed just now to help me understand how to go forward and who I can trust. The first people in your life should be your first safe people. If you have a parent or, if possible, two, who taught you to trust because they made you feel emotionally safe then the result can be as wonderful as this: you able to express your thoughts and feelings as openly and bravely as you do in a blog post like this. (I have seen the loving tributes you’ve written to your mother, so am making that leap.) Even with that solid footing to ground you, I know that it’s still damned hard. 💜💜
Hello Andrea! Yes, my mom created a safe environment, I did trust her – so your leap is well founded! I am so glad this hit the spot this morning. Sorry we are in the same boat of child loss and trying to find safe footing, but I am glad of your company! Thank you for your continued support and friendship.
Terri, you write:
“For near ten years I have wondered what I did to chase God’s “blessing” from our house. I am now realizing that God’s blessing lives in a house of mourning. God’s blessing dwells in sorrow. If I only count my blessings that are judged good in the world, then I will miss the face of God in the heart that is broken. A grape only becomes wine when it is crushed, until then it lives a very solitary life. Crushed, it leaves its former shape and life and becomes part of a new existence.”
I have also wondered for the past almost three years since Amy’s sudden death what I did to chase God’s blessings away. As recent as this morning, I mentioned this to my husband.
Yes, a grape only becomes wine when it is crushed. Some day maybe I will be able to find peace and be part of this new existence I was thrown into kicking and screaming and become part of a fine wine.
Dearest Dee, we become hunted and haunted by those thoughts don’t we? Here is to us becoming the finest of fine wines one day. Much love to you my friend.
Terri … That was so inspiring and thought provoking. Thanks for that and peace and love to you. Annika
Annika, thank you! Much love and peace to you also.
” To experience a blessed life is to live life with all its death and horror, and its joy and laughter.” I think you are right here, Terri. Everything doesn’t have to go perfectly well in order for us to be blessed. Even in hard times it is a blessing to know that God is with me. I don’t have to be happy all the time in order to know God’s blessings. I love the way you use the word affirmation. “Affirmation coaxes exploration and definition. Affirmation requires me to be intimate and active in my pursuit of life.” I never thought about affirmation in this way before. But you’re right. I’m going to think about this a bit. Maybe I will start an affirmation journal, too. I start a 1000 Gifts gratitude journal about 5 yrs. ago but never finished. Maybe affirmation is a better way for me to look at it. 🙂 Thanks for sharing your heart. I pray that you will know God’s blessing even in your grief. I know that the grief never completely goes away, and I hope that you give yourself time to grieve whenever you need to. Love and hugs to you, dear sister. xo
Thank you Gayl for your unconditional love and encouragement. Thank you for keeping me company on this journey. Much love and hugs to you also my sister! May you have a peace filled week.
Your metaphors are exquisite and touching. It’s been over two decades since my son died. I want to add that the crushed grapes become wine and with years it only becomes more flavored.
Grief is a transformation and there is no going back. It’s beautiful that you are able to write and express your deepest pain. I waited to do that – when I began to write 18 years after my son’s death, it was very healing for me.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful blog, which I found through Dee.
Judy, thank you so much for taking the time to read and write. I just read your post on your Jason, he is so beautiful and dear. I look forward to reading more about your journey and listening to your music. Your artwork is amazing!
I will remember your Jason in the fall, Justin died the end of September – the changing of the seasons always grabs my heart. Here is to each of us becoming a full and finely flavored wine. Thank you again for your encouraging words.
Your photographs, and what they affirm to you about life, are lovely.
It is still a turning of your heart toward truths that are positive.
I think I get and respect why you recoil at the words blessing and gratitude.
But to me, it’s that choice one makes to turn the heart away from being stuck in darkness that sucks all joy out of one’s daily existence that is important – whatever name you give that process.
You know, the thing that makes photography work, at all, is light.
And it’s the light we allow in that shows us the beauty.
Thank you Susan for the gift of your time to read and comment! Indeed, it is all about chasing the light and seeing where it will lead.