Since A. died (she passed away just shy of midnight, May 25), I’ve found immense reward in expressing gratitude. When possible, I’ve tried to physically thank the many people who helped A. and me over these last months (six, to be exact). On Thursday, I visited the proton radiation center to thank the reception staff, who always greeted us so warmly during A.’s weekly radiation treatments. I also visited my workplace, where I’ve been absent since December, to thank my colleagues for their incredible support.
As a healthcare worker, I understand how important it is to receive gratitude from others. It rejuvenates you. It heals you. It makes it a little easier to go to work the following day. And it’s also what A. would want. She was the recipient of gratitude. And also gave it out freely. And, for me, moving forward from this tragedy is about bringing her with me. Keeping her legacy alive.
And so, we need more gratitude.
We live in a time in which murdered school children (the Uvalde tragedy also occurred on May 25) are seen as a necessary price to be paid for “freedom.”
We live in a time when women are on the verge of losing bodily autonomy.
The fascists are winning, but those of us who side with love must persevere. And for me, in this moment of my life, expressing gratitude is my best weapon. It’s my only weapon, actually. I’m too exhausted to fight with anything else. Because I’m heartbroken. I’m tired.
And I miss A.