Grief and the Promise of Life

by Peter Gathje
R3 Contributor

A guest I’ll call “Tom,” shared a bit about his life with me this past Thursday morning. He moved to Memphis with his family from Milwaukee when he was seven. He’s lived in Memphis ever since. When he was seven, his father died. When he was twelve, his mother died. When he was twenty-four, his grandmother died. He had no other living relatives that could care for him or about him, so he was alone in the world. He did construction work for the next twenty years, until he was hurt on the job and couldn’t work anymore. He said he drank a lot for most of those years, but he has been sober for the past three years. 

Along the way he was married, but his wife left him, and also left him with a lot of debt. “God’s getting me through it; most days. Some days its just hard, but I try not to get focused on the negative. It just makes me bitter and I don’t want to be bitter.” 

Through the loss of work and the debt Tom lost his home and now lives in his car. Tom asks me each day for a “word for the day.” But before I could share some Scripture with him today, I got called into the house for a few minutes, and by the time I got back Tom was having a heated argument with another guest. Both were asked to leave. Another guest said to me, “He’s carrying a heavy load and just snapped.” Indeed he does and he did. He’s welcome back Monday. 

With the sun shining and temperatures rising, I got a lot of questions about when we’ll be opening the backyard. Our backyard is like a little park, with picnic tables, plenty of shade from the trees (once they get those leaves back), and a lot more room than the house. Guests can spread out and relax. My answer, “We’ll open the backyard when it is consistently in the 50’s at opening time.” I hope that is soon. 

As I was picking up a bit in the front yard later in the morning, a guest asked me if I knew Ethel Sampson. Indeed I did. She was active for many years in our work for abolishing the death penalty. Then she just got a bit too infirm to be out on picket lines or participating in vigils on the front steps of Immaculate Conception Cathedral during the time of an execution. 

Spring is a strange time. There are signs of new life all around with flowers and trees blooming, and birds building nests. But there are reminders of winter, the cold front that occasionally blows through dropping temperatures, the still bare trees. It is Lent before Easter. Guests carry grief while holding to the promise of life, and we do too.