Today is New Years Day 2026! A day that is usually anchored by excitement, anticipation, and hopefulness. As it happens though I just finished reading a short piece in last week’s New England Journal of Medicine on the deep experiences of death and dying by a Dr. Chammas, a Palliative Care Physician practicing out in California. Quite moving and very different from my usual NYD outlooks. She shared her experience reconciling her time with a dying patient and her family. It was a planned session and of course even with all the pre-planning there was nothing that would hold off the both the joy of celebrating a long life while here patient was “still here” and then having to reconcile the shared loss in the days that followed. (DOI: 10.1056/NEJMp2507796)

It caused me to reflect on just how the past month or so has been one of significant emotions due to loss for me as well. A neighbor of mine, whom my wife and I had gotten to know pretty well over the past 3 years or so, underwent open heart surgery on the first of last month to substitute a new aortic valve for a one that was defective since birth. Just short of two weeks later he passed away suddenly at home, found in the morning by a family member on the living room couch. How incredibly devastating! “It was supposed to be a life-extending procedure! ” I said out loud to myself. Within 2 days we learned of my first cousin passing away also being found on her couch. My wife says “It always comes in threes” and within a week we learned that another neighborhood friend had lost her mother from circumstances yet to be clarified other than she was in her 90’s.

Feelings of grief and loss have no time barriers, and my own renewed sense of loss aren’t entirely unique to myself. And while we were blessed by having our Son and Fiancée move within a ten minute drive from where we live in time to celebrate Thanksgiving, and Christmas this year (the first time in more than 15 years that we gathered around the dinner table together as family) I also acknowledged that it had been 13 years since we lost our 29 year old daughter very suddenly on an Easter morning just 7 days after getting married.

What I (and my wife) had found through the loss of our daughter is that there was much to learn, much to accept, much to grieve, and much to reconcile with loss of any kind. And over the years, from those learnings we have gotten to a place where we are more comfortable with sharing our learnings. That each person’s grief experience takes on a life of its own. Even How one gets through it has so many features and facets; how quickly or slowly it transpires, the Kubler-Ross stages, our relationship with our God, how tumultuous it can feel moving from one day to the next (“I was okay yesterday, why am I such a basket case today?). The possibilities are literally endless in the same way if feels our grief too feels like it will never end.

One thing I always get back to is sharing with others who are grieving the things which ultimately shored me up during that most stormy time in my life. Suddenly, and surprisingly, dozens of my friends reached out to me to tell me that they too lost a child. That I was now in a special “club” of sorts. A club you never want to be part of and one that you would never wish even on your worst enemy. Misery loves company I guess. They solicited my time to spend with them. It was hard but it was necessary. And they knew to just be there and listen. And it was also very much scriptural. We are taught to know that we will have experiences in our lives and that by living through them we can take those learnings and help others get through similar traumas and dramas.

And outside of the Bible and an even greater closeness to my God who always walks with me and before me, there were choice writings that fortified me months and years afterwards. Martha Hickman, author of “Healing after Loss” gathered together her thoughts and experiences, and the wisdoms of the ages into a daily devotional to help others through their grief. It was only halfway into the readings did I learn that she and I shared a deep connection. Two important learnings include “Things will get better” following our loss and that because I read those teachings (and the actions of my dear friends who suffered the same loss) I now have the courage to sensitively reach out to others much sooner than I ever could have before. A second book which deliberately led me out of the season of loss was written by Mark Vroegop called “Dark Clouds/Deep Mercy. Discovering the Grace of Lament”. On the back of the book is written “Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God…”.and “if you are hurting or trying to help someone who is, this is a book you will want to read”. I couldn’t say it better myself.

Dr. Chammas’s writing assured me that even those who face death and dying daily sometimes, (or often?) have difficulties in their daily lives after loss. Professional experience in areas that close to death don’t harden one’s soul. And my own experience reminds me that time actually can heal wounds and most everyone can live with the scars left behind. And, of course nobody has to go through loss alone. I’m not getting any younger and I’m sure there will be more loss to come. I bought 3 copies of each book before the year ended yesterday. And along with the Bible I plan to get out there with them and hopefully, in one way shape or form, help my loved ones through what may be their most difficult season in life.