Gratitude Through Loss

Recently, I’ve been surrounded by a lot of loss. A neighbor of ours, a kind and familiar presence in our community, suddenly passed away at the age of 76. His absence has left a quiet void, a reminder of how fleeting life can be. As I sat with my father, who is 78, and my mother, who will soon turn 75, I found myself holding onto those moments just a little tighter, listening more intently, and feeling immensely grateful for the time I have with them.

Loss has a way of sharpening our focus on what truly matters. It pulls forward memories—of friends and family who are no longer here, of laughter shared, of wisdom imparted, of hands held in both joy and sorrow. It reminds us that time is our most precious resource, and that presence—genuine, undistracted presence—is the greatest gift we can give to those we love.

In reflecting on those I’ve lost, I also reflect on what they’ve given me. Lessons, stories, encouragement, and sometimes just the comfort of knowing they were there. Their presence in my life shaped me in ways I continue to understand long after they’ve gone. And while grief is heavy, it’s also a testament to love. We grieve because we cared, because they mattered, because they made an impact.

So today, I choose gratitude. I choose to soak in the moments—big and small—with the people who are still here. I choose to call my parents just to hear their voices. I choose to make time for the friends who feel like family. I choose to put down my phone, to listen more, to appreciate the richness of each shared moment.

If you’ve been thinking about someone you love, reach out. If you’ve been meaning to visit, go. If you’ve been putting off that conversation, have it. Because time is uncertain, but love is always worth the effort.

For those we’ve lost, we honor them in how we live. And for those still with us, we honor them by showing up, fully and completely, with open hearts.