When I was a child, my mother would often say to me: “Count your blessings.” I would share with her a problem or difficulty I faced; she would listen intently, nod her head as I shared my fears and worries, and always end with that phrase: count your blessings. I thought for many years this was her way of appeasing me. I thought she was feigning interest in what my problems or struggles were and just uttered those old, trite words.
As I have progressed on my journey through grief, I thought back a few times over the past year or so to those words. My mother passed away over 12 years ago and sadly suffered from Alzheimer’s disease for over 18 years. Despite her struggles and difficulties, I recall before she lost her ability to speak, our conversations always ended with that old staid phrase: count your blessings.
Just over four years ago, after battling end-stage kidney disease, my wife succumbed to that dreaded disease. In the early days, weeks, and months, I never let that outdated phrase enter my vocabulary. As time passed, however, I learned to appreciate that trite saying.
I became part of Fred Colby’s support group and met a great group of men who suffered the same loss that I did. Each one of them shared their story and offered words of wisdom and hope. We met monthly for a couple of years, and two weeks ago, we had a Zoom reunion. It was great to see, hear, share, and listen to my brothers again. Strangers before our losses but now forever part of a group that, as we say, no one ever wants to join. It was rewarding to know that our brothers are doing well and that we share a bond that will last as long as we are alive.
I am especially grateful to my brother Arnie, with whom I had the pleasure of enjoying a meal and sharing in his wonderful hospitality. I look forward to visiting him again in a few months. Arnie and I live in different parts of the state of New York. I traveled a few hours to his home, and we shared our stories, had a bunch of laughs, and had the opportunity to see our brothers via Zoom.
As I drove home the day after our reunion, I thought about my mother’s old phrase. Yes, I need to count my blessings. I found support and comfort from strangers I would never have met, but tragedy brought us together. I am forever grateful to our Founder Herb Knoll, Fred Colby and every one of you for always making me feel your generosity and support in our band of brothers.
Yes, I count my blessings and am grateful as well to all who have helped me and continue to help me along the journey. Brothers, it does not happen early in the journey, but one day, as time passes, I hope you will say: I Count my blessings.
