And there’s a hand, my trusty friend! And give us a hand of yours! And we’ll take a deep draught of good-will For long, long ago. – Robert Burns
The iconic New Year’s Eve song, Auld Lang Syne, is attributed to Scotland’s Robert Burns, but likely has origins stretching back even further than Burns in 1788. We typically don’t get past the first verse and chorus. The words that follow are hard to remember, most television broadcasts move on to Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York, and so the new year begins.
Doug was very open with his illness, especially on Facebook. Hundreds of messages poured in from friends and family across the globe. They met his candor and humor and matched it, offering cheer and prayer and hope for better days. Closer to home, especially as Doug’s illness progressed, there were meals at the door and rides for the kids and shoulders to lean on. Family members came to stay and became harbors of refuge. Doug was not alone. We were not alone.
In the moment, I was appreciative for every gesture. Reflecting now, I see so clearly how these acts of kindness wove together and upheld us, wrapping us all in limitless love. And there’s a hand, my trusty friend, and give us a hand of yours – we needed that hand, and it was there, with good will so freely extended in so many ways to buoy our spirits and ease our burdens. It will never be forgotten.
Grief can be so consuming and isolating. It’s easy to shut down, and, perhaps, it’s necessary to do so at times. But grief also can bring a great wellspring of compassion. I hope we continue in that spirit to support our friends and loved ones as they supported us. So here’s a hand, my trusty friend, now give us a hand of yours. Let’s greet the year with kindness yet, for the sake of old times, and in hopes of better ones.
Grief, Reflected 