Of Grief and Gratitude

As some of you may know, my father died this past Saturday. He would have been 87 next month and had battled prostate cancer for 14 years. For most of that time, he simply refused to let the disease define him in any way and continued to live his life as he always had – with an incredible work ethic, a love of the west (he lived his entire life in the same town in Wyoming) and a deep devotion to my mother, his three children, 13 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren.

Over the past few years, as his health diminished, I was fortunate to be able to travel home to Wyoming on many occasions and was with him almost around the clock the last 48 hours of his life. When my sister and I did leave the nursing home to grab quick showers and my mom came to take our place, Dad took his last breath holding the hand of the woman who had taken his breath away for over 65 years.   

While I grieve deeply the loss of this man who taught me so much about unconditional love, my overriding emotion this week has been one of immense gratitude. Gratitude for my family that has never been perfect but has always been faithful. Gratitude for my faith which assures me that my father no longer suffers but lives with God in light and in love. Gratitude for a community that has surrounded my mother and our entire family with every means of support imaginable. We have been comforted by a steady stream of visitors dropping in to share stories, tears, and laughter.  We have been given more delicious home-cooked dishes and desserts than we could possibly consume.  The mail brings cards and the phone brings calls assuring us that we are remembered by so many others who were also touched by the life of my father. I have felt spiritually buoyed up by the prayers of those who have heard about my dad through word of mouth, e-mail, and the wonders of Facebook. Gratitude for colleagues who have taken up at the slack at work so that I could drop everything when I felt called to be home at a moment’s notice.

So this week I do indeed grieve as I simply cannot imagine that the man I have known as father and hero is no longer with us in the flesh.  But my moments of grief are far overshadowed by waves of utter gratefulness and I am filled with peace and great joy.

And while I am sure that many moments of painful loss and sorrow will continue to catch me unaware in the weeks, months, and even years ahead, I know too that I will never cease to give thanks for the good fortune I have had by being a daughter who was loved so well.

Peace,
Anne