“Hem your blessings with thankfulness so they don’t unravel.” – unknown

One of my friends has a beautiful ten-year-old golden doodle. They walk miles together every day and he’s constantly by her side. From nearly the moment she got him as a puppy, I’ve heard her say, “Oh, I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.” Foreboding joy. Trying to protect from feeling so much love by reminding ourselves it will end.

I remember hearing MSW and research professor Brené Brown talk about that feeling that steals over us when we go in to check on our kids at night. Standing over their beds watching them sleep, she said it’s nearly universal that we imagine the horror of losing them. I was so relieved. I thought it was just me. Foreboding joy. As Brené Brown says, “What we do in moments of joyfulness is, we try to beat vulnerability to the punch.”

It’s the reason I never want to have it all – happy marriage, beautiful family, good health. If things are going too well, I’m afraid that something will have to fall apart. Is it possible that the hidden underlying reason that I chose to become a single-parent is not wanting to have too good of a life? There are too many circumstantial things to go that far but there’s a nugget of truth that I feel in some twisted way less vulnerable when life is as much work as I’m putting in each of these days.

The antidote the Brené Brown has found through her research is gratitude. The people that Brené calls whole-hearted people from her studies are the ones who can embrace joy with open arms because they are so grateful. And practicing gratitude every day with a gratitude journal or a routine at dinner for everyone to name something they are grateful for is the way we lean in to it.

I wrote a post recently about my dad dying suddenly in a bike accident so I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens when the phone rings with terrible news. I know that gratitude has carried me through many of those tough moments – grateful that I was lucky enough to get him as a father, grateful that he didn’t suffer, grateful that we didn’t have to make tough choices about his care had it not been a sudden death, grateful that I have half of my lifetime of fun memories with him. None of the grief has been easy but the more I’ve celebrated who my dad was and the relationship we shared, the less I’ve suffered the ache of not having him.

So it seems like gratitude works on both ends – to keep us feeling the full joy of things as they happen and comfort us when the worst comes to pass. A worthwhile price to pay for whole-hearted joy!