On Gratitude (Part 2)
On Gratitude (Part 2)
A wish for Thanksgiving Day
Let us say what we feel, and feel what we say; let speech harmonize with life.
―Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Letters to Lucilius, 75.4
In the past few days, I have reflected on my previous essay, and I realized that I need to add a postscript to what I wrote about gratitude and appreciation.
First of all, I must express how grateful I am to have as my friend and editor James A. Arieti, PhD., who has vetted every word in this collection of short essays. Some of you have complimented the writing from time to time, and much of the credit is due to Jim’s learned and thoughtful guidance. I am deeply thankful for the care he takes in helping me find the right words to express what often seem to be inexpressible ideas.
Second, I am grateful to everyone who has read what I have published since June 1st. These essays are not easy to write, and I can imagine that they are not easy to read, especially for those of you who walk the same road I do. These expressions of sorrow take a toll on me to create, and I have heard from more than a few of you that it takes an emotional effort on your part to join me on this journey. I would like you all to know that writing helps to ease out some of the demons from my mind. It is a kind of exorcism at times, that allows great pain to leave me through these words, music, and images. To read these meditations is an act of kindness on your part: a contribution to the healing of a broken soul. That gift allows me to be stronger for those around me, and I am grateful for the part you play in my spiritual restoration.
Third, I thank those of you who have taken a moment to write to me privately or to comment on an essay. Your words of solace or encouragement keep me writing, something I plan to continue until the anniversary of Enzo’s death, the day I will publish my final essay. Thus, our journey, on this day, stands at the midpoint.
Lastly, and most importantly, I am grateful to my wife, Dima, my son, Dino, and Enzo’s mother, Patricia. They have allowed me to share with you what we have lived through these past months, which is an act of bravery, compassion, and generosity on their part. The four of us together endured that awful night we lost Enzo, and, though I never speak for them, I know this is their journey as much as mine.
To those of you who have wished us well in your hearts, thank you for the moments you have spared to think about Enzo or our family. I have said it before but it bears repeating: most of you did not know my son, but I wish you had. Thus, I hope that in some small way the person he was has emerged through what I have shared. If you have glimpsed a bit into his sweet and gentle soul, then this painful effort has been worthwhile.
Allow me to close, as I have before, by sharing a piece of music—one that Enzo and I used to play together from time to time. It is my small gift to you, as I wish you all, wherever in the world you are tomorrow, a happy Thanksgiving surrounded by your loved ones. May your day sparkle with the light of affection, may you find moments worthy of becoming memories, and may you treasure every instant spent with your children, be they present in your home or remembered in your heart.
The day is a vessel. Fill it with love.