There’s so much to be thankful for…

Thankful. Are you? Am I? Are we? The past few Thanksgivings have taken on a different tone. You easily know by now if you’ve read my column I love the holiday just past; that said Thanksgiving for me has sentimental overlay since 2005. This time through the pages I want to reach out to those among us who’ve lost a loved one or treasured friend right around or on a holiday. On Thanksgiving eve, a night usually associated with frivolity and merriment, was grief stricken for my family, when on this night in 2005 my father, after a long bout with Alzheimer’s, quietly passed just at the stroke of midnight crossing from Wednesday into Thanksgiving 05. Agony upon losing a loved one at any time of year is a pain that never really subsides. Losing someone on a holiday seems to be the ultimate blow. Sure, eventually it goes in remission as we all find our own way of coping and moving on. That kind of pain however remains completely unquenchable. Try to work hard, put your mind on other things, take on new tasks as the date nears, you get the picture. Run as far as you want but those touchstones always bring you back to the place and space where those endearing people cross the river Jordan and your holding on to that final chapter. This past Thanksgiving eve 2007 all was moving along for me quite nicely. I had a turkey ready to get cooking for the big day. I had wrapped up a nice run at work and everything was in ‘order’. I hadn’t ‘dwelled’ on dad’s passing, although it was on my mind through the day.

The whole week leading up to Thanksgiving eve I kept busy, a pattern in many of us as we near a troubled time. I decorated my home early, put in more hours at work and got lots done in advance of the holiday break. Chalked up a few extra columns, did more with the boys and got caught up on paperwork, both household and workplace. Was I burying myself in work to forget that dreadful night? The psychologists among us might call me the classic case of dealing with grief by work immersion. If so, guilty as charged, I embrace the tag.

Wednesday Thanksgiving eve my oldest asked if he could join some friends at the movies. The movies, another part of commerce that loves the holidays, more of us spend time at the silver screen now than any other part of the year. Notice all the new releases that jump out November and December. My youngest and I grabbed some ice cream and kept ourselves busy as we waited for the film to end and pick up Anthony at the Regal. Everything was right on schedule when a song played I stumbled upon and was astounded. Thanksgiving has no song dedicated to its day, unlike Christmas, this underrated holiday quietly allows us to enjoy the best of life; family, friends, food and relaxation without the hype of commercialization. But if a song was ever meant to describe the feeling and spirit of Thanksgiving, this song, by crooner Josh Groban grabbed me by the throat. The lyrics are powerful. Here’s a stanza. “Some days we forget to look around us. Some days we can’t see the joy that surrounds us. So caught up inside ourselves we take when we should give. So for tonight we pray for what we know can be. And on this day we hope for what we still can’t see. It’s up to us to be the change and even though we all can still do more, there’s so much to be thankful for”. The song hit me straight in the stomach. Dad. He was reminding me he was in the room, iIn the air, just letting me know he’s still there.

You can keep running all you want and avoid that pain but when you finally get tired and begin to rest, their spirits find their way to speak to you. When someone you love passes, as I’ve discovered, your life takes on a different vibe. Ultimately, you have two choices. Neither is really wrong, it all comes down to how best you cope, move on, accept and make the best of dealing with loss. The first choice is you look at the loss in the context of the event (death ) itself. The grief of the moment or moments leading up to and the passing of your loved one emblazoned in your mind. The idea with this choice is to move on from the grief but at times remember and feeling deep sorrow periodically is only natural and becomes part of who you are. The second choice, the one I am working on embracing, is remembering the time before dad took ill. Remembering the great gifts he gave his family. How dad was our family’s moral, spiritual and work ethic compass. Dad, a man who was given little made certain he gave his family, his country and his faith all he could muster. When I choose this path, my grief turns to joy, gratitude and even delight. The time I spent with Sam DiRenzo Sr. was a truly a pleasure.

I began chasing this path upon a conversation I had with an old friend just before he left our area to move to Florida. He, like me, lost his dad and at just around the same time. He once told me as he hopped in his vehicle and headed south to his new home, ‘Pay attention, they never really go that far away. Our dads and other loved ones are there, it’s us who moves so fast we aren’t listening.’ I envied my friend Vince. I just couldn’t get that concept. It didn’t work for me although I wanted it to and in the worst way. It took time, moving on from loss requires time and healing. Thanksgiving eve I got the first glimpse at the path of remembering what dad gave me, my kids and my family. Just as I thought about grieving his loss, the song ‘Thankful’ by Groban played. Dad’s way of hitting me at just the right time to remind me I choose the path of remembering the gifts, not the loss, the joy of his living, not the pain of his passing. As we head into the holiday season lessons in living are the best present we can give ourselves and each other. These endure and are everlasting. If you find yourself grieving the loss of a loved one this holiday season, I understand. I’m right there too. Try remembering there’s so much to be thankful for. Chances are if you choose this path your loved one has their eye on you and like my dad, will help you on your journey. Keeping a good thought for you, as I will ask you will for me. See ‘ya around town.