The Gift of Grieving Together

My brother, Pat has been gone for over 40 years. Although he remains close in our family heart, I love when other people remember him. Every once in a while I run into someone who knew Pat. Having the opportunity to share his lingering spirit always leaves me grateful for the encounter. Talking, reminiscing and laughing about “Pat stories” gives me an indescribable comfort.

Recently, I was contacted by one of Pat’s best friends from high school who then went on to be his roommate in college. The outreach took me by surprise. After several more email correspondences, my brother, sister and I met with Pat’s friend and his wife for a beer and welcome conversation.

What ensued will remain a lingering gift for me. I was thrilled at the opportunity to reconnect. We laughed as Pat’s friend recounted stories of crazy high school and college shenanigans. We talked about Pat’s sense of humor, his competitive spirit, and the unforgettable go-cart race where my brother somehow mastered the art of left turn only speedway racing.  

We asked each other questions about lapses in our memories, and we even shared some tears in recalling the tough times my brother navigated. Love and appreciation met sadness which were all embraced with acceptance. I loved immersing in everything Pat; his light, his dark, his laugh, and the opportunity to return to him with so many cherished memories.

For me, talking about my brother with affection created a sacred space around our restaurant table. It felt good. Even with the pain of losing someone you love, sharing stories about them is like a soothing balm. Often times we think it’s better to avoid feeling loss, but loss is never easily avoided. Often times we think by not talking about the person we dearly miss, such avoidance will keep our emotional vulnerabilities in check. However, my recent beer shared in Pat’s memory reminded me how therapeutic it is to bring such vulnerabilities to light.

I share this story because the holiday season is upon us. For many, this might be the first year without a loved one, or simply a stark reminder of what or who is missing. Bringing such deep sorrow to the holiday table can be lonely and hard. The holiday season is supposed to be defined by hope, but sometimes the search for hope is hijacked by grief. Whether loss of somebody is recent or 40 years old, the empty chair at the dinner table is hard-hitting.

The next time I see my brother and sister will be on Thanksgiving Day where we no doubt will recall these remembrances of Pat and share them with those gathered. We will most certainly toast to him and others we’ve loved and dearly miss. For those of you who come to the Thanksgiving table filled with grief, I hope you, too, can soothe your tears with laughter and shared stories that will lift your hearts with the gift of lingering love. Remembering that funny story, or that time when, or “did I ever tell you…” might create space for you, too, where the light of those lost will penetrate your longing for them. It's a good reminder that love never dies. Perhaps here is where the hope of this holiday season can begin.