Good Grief

I have been grieving for 18 months. Maybe more. One loss after another. Mostly invisible. A shrinking job title that enabled my team to grow stronger. An industrial scale disruption that is melting my craftsmanship into machine learning. Relationships not meeting me where I thought they would. It’s been a stripping away of false identities and latent securities to find what I really value and what truly endures. I’ve been mourning in the unseen world where ideas, hopes, and expectations eventually meet reality.

“Imagined futures” are becoming grieved losses as each arbitrary evaluation horizon comes and goes. None of these expectations were owed to me, promised to me, or even alluded to me. And now they’ve eluded me. The grief shows up whether the desire earned it or not. I truly am God’s image bearer—I’ve created something out of nothing. That’s not quite right. Desires aren’t nothing, and emotions are definitely something. Out of nothing, I’ve created disappointment.

And yet, I’m happier than I can ever recall. My connections with my wife and children are stronger than ever. I’ve come to realize those are the constants I care about most. Everything else is free to be variable and volatile. I can’t control any of it. And the constants don’t ask me to.

I’m embodied and emboldened by this nervous system. Dis-regulation and all. Who called it a nervous system, anyway? Why not a “courage system” or a “hope system?”

I suffered a real loss today. My uncle died. He’s gone. We’ll never laugh together again. That’s an imagined future that cannot be pursued. I’m mourning. It’s good to grieve.

Kenneth Chavious was kind, patient, and generous. He came to my graduations. He endured my angst. He smiled and laughed at every opportunity. I miss my uncle Kenny.

I’m going to continue missing him indefinitely. I’m not going to miss out on my next imagined future.