Grief comes in waves, and rarely when you want it to show up. You may feel confused, tired, listless, sad, or otherwise weighed down by grief. When grief is nearby asking for attention, a simple tool to tend to it is prayer.

Grief came for me during a busy work week. As I rushed to get things prepared for a bilingual training, I found out that my 95 year old aunt was sick with COVID-19. Good news: my aunt made a full recovery, thank you Medicade and the thoughtful health care professionals. The downside is that I still went through the throws of grief.

Prayer is a means of surrendering, while recognizing your power, so the night she headed into the hospital, I got on my knees and prayed. When things get hard, it can be useful to return to old spiritual practices. For me, that’s returning to old Christian prayers, but with new clarity.

Dear Holy flame, God, goddess, loving spirit.
Thank you for the gift of my Aunt Naomi’s life. . .

These days my prayers are more queer. I value contradictions, polarities, and paradox. I focused on celebrating my aunt’s life and health, even as she was sick, because what you pay attention to grows.

Queer elders I say thank you. Those of you who survived the early years of the AIDS epidemic, thank you for teaching me that widespread terror has a vibration, a feel, a resonance that can pull us in. And thank you for teaching me to set boundaries that allow me to feel grief and not get stuck.

As you’re faced with losses, call on your people who have survived great loss so you can feel the feeling without getting lost. Call on them by name, by memory, or by the feeling sense that they have existed. And ask them what wisdom they have to share.

Listen closely and you may hear them whisper.

Breathe
I am here. I am well.
I am here. I am well.
I am here. I am well.