How Gratitude Grew from Grief
The story starts when I received the news that my Grandmom passed away, but it doesn’t end there.
In fact, it was only the beginning of an outpouring of love.
I didn’t have time to fully process that she was gone before I got to work, so it was there that I lost control.
I can’t tell you how it feels to have people at work who aren’t afraid to care, who offer hugs and support when words aren’t enough.
It was there, standing in the break room with coworkers that I started to realize how grateful I am for this close-knit workplace.
Wherever I went that morning, I was met with sympathy and love, and I will not soon forget that.
It made an impression on me, and opened my eyes to the genuinely kind people I walk by everyday.
I’m not trying to romanticize anything, because not everyday can be an outpouring of affection.
In this moment though, I experienced pure compassion that struck a chord in me. Perhaps T.A. Webb said it best:
“A burden shared is a burden halved.”
The kindness kept coming, gathering force like a stream as it moves to a river.
Wonderfully sweet church people came with meals and empathy, hugs and pies (two of my favorites!). They came to meet a physical need, and left meeting a spiritual one as well.
Plants and flowers came, and beautifully written cards that expressed all the joy of loving relationships.
This is why I love making connections with people, why relationships are so important to me. That spark of pure, genuine love for one another always overwhelms and humbles me.
I will always miss Grandmom, but I don’t want to miss the people around me in the process.
I don’t know how to thank you friend, coworker, church member. I don’t know how, but I will try, because you mean so much to me.