“He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it.” – Turkish Proverb

I want to take this opportunity to express my deepest and most sincere appreciation to my friends and to the strangers who reached out to me after I posted the news of my neighbor’s son’s suicide. I am so grateful for the kind words of condolence, of encouragement, and of love. Thank you.

I stopped by to offer my condolences to my neighbor and her family this afternoon. I cooked for a large group this Thanksgiving and decided to drop off some food.

I walked through the door and if sadness were visible, then I would have been blinded by it. The heartbreak was palpable; it wrapped itself around my gut and squeezed the breath out of me.

My neighbor hugged me and whispered that she was grateful I had come. Then she looked at me and asked:”Do you think that I killed X by sending him away?” I stared at her dumbstruck. What does one say to such a terrible, horrifying question? Actually it is not the question that is terrible but rather the feelings that it belies — feelings of despair, guilt and grief.

When I could finally speak, I whispered “no, no, I do not.” She tells me that he was buried last Friday in South Carolina. She says that she wanted him buried next to his grandfather (who he idolized as a boy). I can’t take the rawness of emotion in the room so I stay for half an hour and then leave. I could not get out of there fast enough. I walk across the street, unlock my door, and crumble to the floor. The words “I HATE MYSELF and MY SKIN” rattle in my head. I haven’t been able to shake the words. I don’t think that I ever will. I pick myself up and resolve to not let grief overwhelm.

I am searching for the meaning in this. As I struggle to recover from blurred vision, I am being challenged to find new ways to “see” the world. There must be some meaning in this. Today on Thanksgiving, when so many people are spending time with friends and family, it is worth taking a moment to tell everyone how much you value them and appreciate that they are in this world. We have to hold tighter to those we love and we need to make more efforts to connect with those who we do not.

My friend Leanne who is a remarkable person sent me a poem a couple of days ago. She included a poignant note with it that I will cherish forever. One sentence from the note reads: “I am sending you this poem because I see it as a prayer for human redemption and for the possibility of renewal in the midst of abiding grief.”

I have read it a dozen times already and it does indeed feel like a prayer. It feels like a way to cut through the pain.

Let there be new flowering
by Lucille Clifton

let there be new flowering
in the fields let the fields
turn mellow for the men
let the men keep tender
through the time let the time
be wrested from the war
let the war be won
let love be
at the end

I am grateful for my loved ones, for those strangers who contribute light to the world, and for the blessing of being able to lead a purposeful life. Happy Thanksgiving to you all!