WHEN DEATH KNOCKED, GRATITUDE ANSWERED

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. For those who love with heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation.” Rumi

Death is the guest that never knocks. It just barges in, unannounced, as it did three weeks ago when it snatched away my younger brother, Timmy Ray, without warning.

My daughter, Mia, and I were crocheting and watching our favorite shows when I got the call that Tim had passed. He’d battled depression most of his life, so hearing the words “Timmy is gone” meant, in a strange way, his battle was over. In that moment, I did what I’ve learned to do when death comes to visit: lean on my Aunt Geraldine’s words of wisdom from the day my mother died over twenty-two years ago.  

Mama died at home on a Saturday evening, surrounded by family. Two of her nieces were in the kitchen frying catfish, with all the trimmings. Aunt Geraldine was sitting at the kitchen table when I let them know that Mama was taking her last breaths. I'd always known my aunt to be candid, but her reaction to her sister’s death caught me off guard.

"Well, Myrtle," she said, "it's her time. She's at peace in her own bed, and that's a good way to go. We all have to leave here, so we might as well accept it and keep living." Then she turned to her nieces, who were putting the finishing touches on the meal, and asked, "When will the fish be ready?"

I didn't fully understand it at the time, but Aunt Geraldine's words stayed with me, and I decided that someday, I wanted to be able to process losing a loved one the way she did. Death has shown up at my door several times since then, and here was another opportunity to practice.

After talking with a few more family members that night, I went to bed, thanked my guardian angel aunt, and slept well.

But the next morning, the pain and sadness rushed in. I sat up in bed, hoping to release some of it onto paper – but tears, not words, filled the empty pages. So I closed my journal, got up, and got busy with the dreaded tasks that follow a death. In this case - helping Tim’s children make final arrangements. It got me through the first day.

On the second day, I was able to journal. As I finished my gratitude list, my “go to” poem for challenging times popped into my head: Rumi’s The Guest House. So I pulled it from my files and rewrote it a few times for clarity on what I needed to do next. One lesson I’d learned from Rumi is that not a single unwanted guest shows up empty-handed – each comes bearing gifts if we’re paying close attention.

By day three, I knew I had to let gratitude lead the way. Yes, my brother was gone, and no amount of gratitude can bring him back. So rather than dwell on loss, I began looking for the gifts he shared during his 60 years of life – blessons (blessings and lessons) that helped me plan his memorial service.

I also thought of gifts he’d left behind - some are still unfolding – and made a "Blessons from Tim's Death" list. Here are my top three:

1.     It is reshaping my understanding of death and what it means to "keep living."

2.     It is strengthening the bond among family members he left behind — we've begun planning an annual reunion in his honor for 2027.

3.     It is adding another chapter to my next book, on the gifts of Gratitude.

Rumi says it best: "Treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight."

So I’m letting gratitude and grief sit side by side at my table, for as long as they need to stay, and watching my list of blessons grow. It’ll be exciting to see how death, the guest none of us invites, can still leave behind unseen treasures, reminding us that the spirit of our loved ones never dies!

Think of someone you've lost. If you were to start your own "blessons" list today, what would be your first entries?

In all things be Grateful; Be Well!

If you need help processing death or loss, I’m here to help. Contact me at smallchange@myrtlerussell.com.

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