31/10/2025
Gratitude means many things to many people. It’s a word we often say as though we all understand it in the same way, yet what resonates deeply with one person may not with another. For me, as someone who has spent nearly fifteen years working in end-of-life care, who has witnessed over two thousand last breaths, gratitude has become something sacred and layered. It has been shaped by sitting beside those who are dying, by holding space for families preparing to say goodbye, and by learning again and again how fragile and precious this life really is.
Gratitude, in the context of death, means focusing on thankfulness for a loved one’s life and the time you had together, rather than solely on the pain of their loss. It’s appreciating their legacy, the lessons they taught, and the positive impact they had. This kind of gratitude helps us navigate grief, fosters resilience, and reminds us that love does not end where life does. There’s also a quiet, personal gratitude that comes from what mortality itself teaches us, the clarity it brings about what truly matters and the invitation it gives us to live more fully in the present.
Gratitude for life is the recognition and appreciation of the goodness that exists around us, both big and small, the kindness of others, the comfort of home, a shared laugh, the warmth of the sun on your face. It’s an active practice of noticing, of focusing on what is here rather than what is missing. It’s being thankful for the people and moments that enrich our days, even amid heartache or uncertainty. This practice doesn’t erase pain, but it can help us find peace and meaning within it.
I have learned that gratitude is both a feeling and a choice, a learned behavior we can nurture through reflection, through presence, and through simply saying thank you for another sunrise. But it’s also deeply personal. What I am grateful for may not be what someone else feels grateful for, and that’s okay. Gratitude cannot be forced or prescribed; it must be found and felt within each individual’s own heart, in their own time. Still, I believe it begins in the smallest of ways, in noticing what’s here, right now. So take a moment today to pause and notice, not what’s missing, but what’s here. Gratitude begins in that simple act of seeing.
xo
Gabby
You can find this blog here:
https://www.thehospiceheart.net/post/gratitude-through-the-lens-of-end-of-life-care