I lost two greats within 6 weeks of each other, my dad who I wrote about in my last blog, and then my dog, Moose. Both were diagnosed with cancer out of nowhere and both passed away quickly after diagnosis; my dad 11 weeks after and my dog, 5 days after-just a little over a week ago. It has been a lot. There are moments the sadness overwhelms me, sometimes without warning. Losing Moose was the tip of the iceberg, and I honestly wasn’t sure I could bounce back from all the grief I’ve collected over the years. Moose was my comfort after my Stage 4 diagnosis, through Alex’s stroke, the global pandemic and lockdown, my sadness over being an empty nester and missing my kids who are all so so far away, my dad’s diagnosis and passing, and all the times in between. Moose was the loving, always present, positive thread throughout the most difficult times. His sudden illness and death was the pin prick that finally popped my already stretched balloon full of grief. 2023 has been rough but SLOWLY I’m feeling life come back without tears attached.
Two things happened this week that helped me a little, the first was a quote I read a few days ago and it impacted me so much that I wrote it on a sticky note and stuck it to my laptop, ‘We live daily and die once, so we must make the most of the time we have.’ ~Dr. Howard Tucker, the oldest practicing doctor alive at 100 years old (he’s in the Guinness Book of World Records). Take a pause right here and repeat, ‘We live daily and die once…’ One thing I remember my mom saying in her grief just moments after my dad passed, ‘We still had so many plans.’ As hard as it was to hear that, it was a reminder AGAIN that life is so brief and we need to steal those moments of joy, but not just that, we need to REMEMBER and make the most of them.
The second thing was an interview on Kelly Corrigan’s podcast with author and journalist, Michael Lewis whose high school daughter died suddenly in a car accident. I resonated so much with his insight as he processed through his grief. First he acknowledged that we all want easy stories, and of course, who wants a life complicated by grief and sadness? But spoiler alert, fairy tales don’t get a happy ending without all the crap in the middle. Next he used the phrase ‘radical gratitude.’ I have heard the phrase ‘radical love’ from therapists and I get it. Radical love to me is loving someone ‘despite’ or ‘even though we don’t agree’, or ‘even though I’d rather not be in the same room as you, I still care.’ I believe in Jesus and I believe his life and death were examples of radical love and I try, I really really try. I’ve never heard the phrase ‘radical gratitude.’
Radical gratitude (to me) means the act of taking all your circumstances, good or bad, and consciously choosing gratefulness. It is the exercise of being completely devastated but still actively searching for one thing, one tiny thing to be thankful for. It’s hard but it’s the magic sauce. In 2008 after years of singing at church, on tv, on the radio, at events, I got cancer in my neck that cut the nerve to my right vocal fold. What once was what I was known for, my identity, and also what I LOVED to do, was gone, but after that surgery and radiation, the cancer was gone too. I was grateful to be alive. In 2009 and 2010 when cancer came back again and again, they took it out without harming anything else even though both were high risk surgeries. And then in 2017 when the cancer traveled to my lungs, well, I’m still here. I have had LOTS of practice, too much practice in my opinion, being devastated and having to focus on things to be grateful for (and not just from having cancer). I’ve learned that grief over what’s lost never goes away, you just build your life around it. Life is NEVER what we expect and most things we can’t control. Grief transforms us and it’s radical gratitude that keeps us soft and hopeful for another day.
I came home tonight from a couple days of travel and broke down. It was the first time in 7 years that I’ve come home from being gone a couple days and my 90lb Moose was not bounding after me, happy and longing for pets and hugs from his human. Ugh, I was so sad..and then I saw a box. It was a care package a friend sent to let me know that she was thinking of me after the loss of my dad and Moose. I cried harder. It was my fairy tale happy ending to the day. That is life, brutal and beautiful. Sure, fairy tales are not real but happy endings happen all the time in the in between. We get to narrate our story, we get to react and grieve how we need to, but practicing radical gratitude is perspective changing. Grief can make us hard or soft and I choose soft because life is too short and too difficult to walk around with that heavy coat of armor. I’ve heard time and again that I don’t look sick. Not everyone who is sick or sad or struggling internally has that on their face, they just carry it in their bodies and hearts. EVERYONE carries some form of hurt and grief from an imperfect life, is it possible to start looking at people from that lens? Yes, and hopefully it changes you and allows for more grace, patience, and understanding. I will caveat this by saying there are still jerks, abusers, and those who cause harm or pain–try to understand where that came from for them and leave it at that; forgive, let go, and radical love them from afar. I’m no expert.
I am still sad, I will be for a long time and it’s ok. I have carried grief around like a siamese twin for years and it has continually broken my heart but I refuse to let it harden my heart. There is still magic. There is still love. God has been so good to me.
Anna's Lipstick Journey 