The Bittersweet Irony of Thanksgiving

I have misgivings about Thanksgiving

The bittersweet irony of Thanksgiving is once again upon our family. Four members of my immediate family have died in November, two of my sisters, Jean and Donna, died on Thanksgiving Day, another sister, Evie, and my dad died a few days before Thanksgiving.

This, in a season when we give thanks for all our blessings and begin the rush to Christmas joy. Instead of being full of thanks, at times my heart has instead resembled the crusted leftovers at the bottom of the dressing pan.

If ever a person needs favor and grace, it’s when life has delivered you to the dark precipice and pushed you into the valley below.

I know a lot about being thankful, learning the phrase “Praise the Lord anyway!” early in my Christian walk. It was easy then, when the world seemed fresh and alive and new. But during times of deep grief, when I passed through the valley of death, my praise well was empty. Indeed, I didn’t walk through the valley in my own power, but seemed to be carried by the pallbearers of my grieving spirit.

The death of loved ones is never easy, but the gaping hole left in holidays you once shared is particularly hard to fill, especially when the deaths cluster together. A pall hung over me as the years passed. Every Thanksgiving I frantically tried to cover the hole left by absent family members. It wasn’t until many years later that I was set free from the oppressive grief and was able to enjoy Thanksgiving again.

jeanie-donna-evie-2

High school photos of Jean, Donna and Evie

Most of those deaths happened many years ago. Then in 2012, as I put the turkey in the oven about dawn on Thanksgiving morning, the phone rang. My oldest sister, Jean, had died a few minutes earlier. Would I sink under the grief again? While her death was not unexpected, it was Thanksgiving. One more Thanksgiving, one more death in the family.

I’m happy to report that year I did not fall into a pit of grief and despair again. The pallbearers of my spirit did their job and carried me through the valley.

Many people experience grief during the holidays. Every year they, and maybe you, face the holidays with a splintered family.

It has now been three decades since the Thanksgiving death pall began in our family. One of the benefits of getting older is you have the perspective of time. For those of you who are grieving during the holidays, here are a few thoughts to hang onto. While they can’t fix what happened, perhaps you will find comfort in them.

  1. Use this holiday season to count your blessings.
  2. Tell someone your story. People say they want to help, well, here is a way they can, by listening. Tell you first memory, best memory, worst memory, last memory and everything in between. At a funeral, sometimes tears give way to stories that make you smile. Find those smiley stories.
  3. Write down your memories. This is a great healer, the third best way to deal with grief.
  4. Helping others. It will release endorphins into your system and help you find peace. Volunteer to serve a holiday meal at a homeless shelter. Ring the bell for the Salvation Army. One person I know chooses to work on holidays so others can be with their families.
  5. Finally, ask the Lord Jesus to heal your broken heart and to give you a future and a hope. You may not feel like you want to go on, but you are alive and that means you still have a purpose to fulfill here on earth.Isaiah 53: 4 states, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.”
  6. That isn’t just a vague promise, but a powerful one. He can and will carry you through the valley of grief and bring you out the other side if you ask him.
  7. One definition of pall is “the white cloth given in baptism and the resurrection of Christ at Easter.” So “pall-bearer” signifies the one who bears a coffin covered by hope of the resurrection. You see, grief has always been associated with grace. It is only through the death and resurrection of Christ that we can have hope for eternal life and hope of seeing our loved ones again.