Gratitude and grief often share the table in November. The Thanksgiving season reminds us that we should be thankful: family gatherings, favorite recipes, and discussions about the holidays, all around the table. But gratitude can feel complicated after someone we love has died, and it feels like they are missing out on this important moment. We may be thankful for what remains, yet heartbroken over what has changed. Both of these things can be true!

Sorrow doesn’t take a break because the calendar says it’s time to celebrate. The chair where our beloved one sat might be empty, and the traditions that hold us close may now feel very different without that person whose presence helped make the gatherings so special. Grief may bring a wish to hear their voice, hear that same goofy story once again, or to just have one more ordinary day together. All those feelings don’t mean that we are ungrateful, but they do mean that someone we love so deeply mattered and is remembered.

I’ve been guilty of not noticing what others might be carrying, because my grief is so loud in my ears. The last seven years have seemed like a dream in a lot of ways, and I’m certain I ignored or didn’t pick up on what was going on in the hearts and lives of people around me. Gratitude for our own blessings can sit alongside concern for people who are struggling in ways we cannot see. That realization causes us to stop, ask God to help us notice, and to take action.

It happens all the time.

We go to work, come home, go to church, laugh, and play; and all around us, there are people in the fight of their lives!

You’ve been there.
I’ve been there: in a fight for our faith, for healing, for peace, for happiness and joy. It eludes us because there’s too much pain, sorrow, even depression, and we sit in oblivion to the quiet hurt around us. Are we selfish? Self-absorbed? Oh God, break our hearts for what breaks YOURS!

That prayer doesn’t require us to fix everybody’s pain. We might not know what to say, we might not be able to change the circumstances; but we can choose to be present. We can choose to listen without rushing to explain, or to give the very best answer, or to comfort exactly, to remember a difficult anniversary, or make room for someone’s sadness without asking them to hide it for the sake of a holiday!

Scripture offers a simple way to meet one another in whatever season we are facing: “rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep” (Romans 12:15, KJV) We don’t have to choose between celebrating and caring when we see folks hurting.
We can give thanks for what we have while grieving what we have lost.

Soft-focus orange flowers on a muted green background. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. Romans 12:15, KJV.

Our gratitude doesn’t erase the pain that we are going through. Our sorrow doesn’t cancel gratitude, either. If thankfulness feels hard, you don’t have to force a long list. Maybe you can notice one small comfort: a warm drink, a kind message, a memory that brings a brief smile, or someone willing to sit beside you. If the holiday is mostly sad, you are allowed to say so! Your feelings matter.

If you or someone you love needs support while navigating grief, First Hour Grief Recovery offers peer support and resources. It can be a gentle place to begin looking for a way to move forward.

This November, may we make room for honest sorrow, gentle gratitude, and the pain others carry quietly. We can miss someone and still welcome warmth. We can notice another person’s hurt and offer kindness. We don’t have to have all the answers to show up with an open heart.