Resilience and Joy in the Midst of Grief

Upon hearing of the recent death of my son, Ronin, an old colleague of mine who I haven’t seen in about five years, blessed me by sending me the text of a poem called “Dirge without Music”, by Edna St. Vincent Millay. You can read it here, or if you prefer, below is a video of Joan Crawford reading it in 1967.

There are moments in my present emotional landscape where the best I can do is agree with these words. The best I can do is rail and roil in my heart and mind against the ravages of death. There are even moments when I cannot even do that – when I feel utterly defeated. This is when I feel as though nothing matters. It’s that sense of futility that “Dirge” doesn’t stand for.

But there are also times – and these are the times I cherish – when I can go beyond not resigning myself to my son’s death. It’s these times, when God’s whispering voice finds a thin crevice in the hard walls of my heart, when I can say “I do not approve. And I am not resigned. Moreover I know that the best is NOT lost.” It’s in these moments that I can reach deep down past the murk of grief and sorrow and find joy flowing as if from a pure spring.

I know I will see my son Ronin again. I know that in that moment – in that eternity – we will both be whole and perfect men sharing a bond that is stronger than anything I could have hoped for in this earthly life.