Grief, Gratitude & A Dance Party
Like many people, I’ve been feeling sad lately. It began on Wednesday in our home, when we learned about the loss of someone we love dearly. On Friday, between logging out of my email and into FB, I glimpsed a headline. Then there were the status updates. My initial response to the references of this horrific event was to shut out as much extraneous information and commentary as possible. I do not need to know the details. They most definitely are unnecessary for the public and most likely re-traumatizing to the children asked to share.
I basked in intense gratitude last Friday. I was grateful to be safe and sound and to feel safe and sound. I was grateful for our home filled with giggles and great conversation and dog barks that simply signal the arrival of the mailman. I was grateful to be in a neighborhood where we can take walks and swing in the park and chat with our neighbors. I was grateful to be in a city where I can drive around freely. I was grateful to live in a country where something like this is still shocking and abhorrent.
On Saturday, as we started to drive home from our second holiday party Leila was screaming and there was nothing I could do. And I started to feel sad. I was sad I could not comfort her. I was sad for the moms and dads and sisters and brothers that have a hole in their heart after last Friday. I was sad for the mamas that grieve the loss of their babies without the prayers of a nation. I was sad for the dad in Afghanistan that I saw on the news that lost his son. I was sad for my old clients and their stories. I was sad for losses I know and for losses I do not know because their stories got swept away in indifference.
I hate that there is hurt and sadness like this in the world, but I am hanging tight to gratitude now more than ever. I love this quote Brené shares. “When you honor what you have, you’re honoring what I’ve lost.”
Nothing makes me more crazy grateful that this dancing munchkin. Last Wednesday, she started shaking her rump every time I sang a little number I call “Call Me Pumpkin.” Of course, when I tried to capture it last Thursday afternoon, she was a bit too preoccupied with the bow in her hair and the remote on the couch and the paper in her mouth (don’t worry, I fished it out eventually), but you get the idea…
Music: Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen (I know you know, but I like to give credit where credit is due.)
Before I go, I want to share this brilliant post by Brené Brown. If you have not read it, please do.