A Year of Grief Support

Sign up for one year of weekly grief messages designed to provide strength and comfort during this challenging time.

Please wait

Verifying your email address

Please wait

Unsubscribing your email address

You have been unsubscribed

You will no longer receive messages from our email mailing list.

You have been subscribed

Your email address has successfully been added to our mailing list.

Something went wrong

There was an error verifying your email address. Please try again later, or re-subscribe.

View our recent obituaries
Rivera Family Funerals & Cremations & Memorial Gardens logo

I Walk Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

October 19, 2020

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me to beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the

paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death ,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

they rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me

in the presence of mine enemies:

thou anointest my head with oil;

my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house

of the Lord for ever.

Gained in Translation

There’s an Italian proverb, “traduttore, traditore,” which American Rabbi Harold Kushner mentions in his book, The Lord is My Shepherd . It means, “to translate is to betray.” Usually, Kushner says, even the best translation will never completely capture the essence of the author’s original words.

In contrast, the translators of the 23rd Psalm from its original Hebrew to the English  King James’  Bible have actually made a key phrase in this verse more poetic , more revealing , and more faithful than the original: a rare translational feat.

According to most Biblical scholars, the original Hebrew word used in this verse was salmawet (צַלְמָוֶת) , which means “deep darkness.” However, in the translation, the word was interpreted as two words: sel (צל) , which means “shadow,” and mawet (מות‎), which means “death.” 

I walk through the deep darkness ,” was thereby translated to, “ I walk through the shadow of the valley of death .” 

Shadow and Light

Through this improvement in translation, we come to understand that the shadow of death is the knowledge of our own, and our loved one’s, mortality. It’s our knowledge that death will come. 

The story of God warning Adam and Eve that once they eat from the tree of knowledge, they will die, illustrates the kind of metaphorical death the knowledge of our own mortality brings about. Knowing we will die, and knowing those we love will die, casts a dark, frightening shadow into what would otherwise be our life’s sunny days.

Kushner suggests that people may react in several ways when contemplating the inevitability of death, or, in Biblical terms, when eating from the tree of knowledge of good (life) and evil (death).

  1. We can throw all caution to the wind, and behave recklessly in the “eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow I may die” mentality.
  2. We can become despairing and hopeless, refusing to fully live our lives, because, in the words of Woody Allen, “what’s the point of doing homework” if the world is going to end in six billion years?
  3. We can feel gratitude and joy for life, and we can recognize that our choices and our time are infused with meaning precisely because they are limited by death.

This third choice, says Kushner, may be what Psalm 90:12 is telling us with the words, “ Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom .” The knowledge of death, which elevates human beings from the rest of the animal kingdom, may be an opportunity for us to live better lives. It may not be bad; it may in fact be good.

The story goes that at the end of each day of creation, God proclaims, t ov meo d (טוֹב מְאוֹד) , which means, “very good.” However, scholar Rabbi Meir interprets those words as  tov mot (טוב מות) , meaning, “death is good.”

A shadow cannot exist without the presence of light. Grief cannot exist without the presence of love. We experience the shadow of the valley of death only if we have already allowed our lives to be imbued by the joy of love and light. Pleasure and pain are two sides of the same coin. Choosing numbness over openheartedness may protect ourselves from pain, but it will also starve ourselves of pleasure. Death casts a shadow, but only within the light, our natural state within which we can fully embrace the richness of life.

Death is the mother of beauty .” ~ Wallace Stevens

Through

Kushner points out that there is one word in this psalm that is often overlooked: through. Grief is not meant to be an endless valley of despair. We are not meant to linger there forever. We move through the valley, however painfully, but we come out the other side, ever changed.

He suggests several reasons we might feel powerless to walk through the shadows, or why we might feel comfortable settling in the valley. 

  1. We may feel undeserving of healing or happiness due to traumatic events in our lives. 
  2. We may become attached to the sympathetic identity we garner from our journey in the valley.
  3. We may mistakenly believe that the love we feel for someone who has died is reaffirmed again and again by our dwelling in sadness. We may feel afraid that we will lose the memory of our loved one, or the loyalty we have for them, if we move on with our lives.

Kushner reassures us that while we indeed grieve the loss of our loved one’s future years, we also inherit those years, and we honor our loved ones best by living those years as meaningfully as we can. We pay tribute to our deceased loved ones by living in the light, because they no longer can, and because this is what they would want for us. We remember our loved ones by pausing in their memory on special days, noticing the beauty of nature and feeling a bittersweet gratitude, or perceiving a sacred synchronicity in our life that can only be explained by our unending connection with them.

This key verse of the 23rd Psalm transcends religion, and its wisdom is available to all of us. I walk through the valley of the shadow of death  gives us permission to use our awareness of the shadow of death to immerse ourselves in the illuminating light of life.

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” ~  Mary Oliver

March 27, 2025
More Than One Loss Grief is often thought of as the pain we feel after losing a loved one. But grief isn’t just about the person who died —it’s also about everything that went with them. The routines you shared, the roles you played, the future you imagined, and even the relationships that shift in the aftermath. These are known as secondary losses, and they can be just as difficult as the primary loss itself. Secondary losses are often not antcipated. You might expect to grieve your loved one, but you may not anticipate the deep loneliness that comes from losing the small daily interactions you had with them. You might feel the pain of losing not just a spouse, parent, or friend, but also the identity that came with being their partner, caregiver, or confidant. These hidden losses can make grief feel even heavier, and understanding them can help you navigate this challenging time. What Are Secondary Losses? Grief touches every part of life, which means secondary losses can take many forms. Some of the most common include: · Loss of roles: If you were a caregiver, a partner, or a child who looked to a parent for guidance, that role is now different—or gone entirely. Adjusting to life without that identity can feel disorienting and painful. · Loss of routines: Grief often disrupts the everyday patterns of life. The morning coffee you always shared, the Sunday phone calls, the daily check-ins—small but meaningful aspect of our lives. · Loss of relationships: Some friendships and family connections change after a loss. People may not know how to support you, or they may distance themselves. Others may expect you to grieve on their timeline, making it harder to maintain those relationships. · Loss of security: This could be financial, especially if the person who died contributed to household income. It could also be emotional—the feeling that you had a safe and predictable life before this loss. · Loss of future plans: Every loss changes the future. Dreams you shared, trips you planned, milestones you expected to celebrate together—these losses can hit unexpectedly, sometimes long after the initial grief has subsided. The Emotional Impact of Secondary Losses Secondary losses can feel like waves that keep coming, even when you think you’ve found solid ground. Because they are not always acknowledged by others, they can feel isolating. But just like the primary loss, they deserve space and recognition. Navigating Secondary Losses: Practical Advice · Name and validate the losses. It may help to make a list of the secondary losses you’re experiencing. Acknowledging them can bring clarity and help you acknowledge the many losses you have. · Create new routines and roles. While the old ones may never be replaced, finding small ways to establish new patterns can bring a sense of stability. This could be as simple as a new morning ritual or a different way of honoring your loved one’s memory. · Seek out supportive relationships. Some connections may change, but new ones can also emerge. Finding people who understand grief—whether through support groups, therapy, or trusted friends—can help ease the loneliness. · Give yourself permission to grieve these losses. Just because they aren’t always talked about doesn’t mean they aren’t real. Allow yourself to mourn what has changed, just as you mourn the person you lost. · Consider professional support. If secondary losses feel overwhelming or make it difficult to function, a grief counselor can help you process them and find ways to cope. Grief Is Layered, But Healing Is Possible Grief is never just about one loss. It’s about all the pieces of life that shift and change in the wake of that loss. If you find yourself grieving things beyond the person who died, know that you are not alone. Be patient with yourself as you navigate these changes, and remember that support is available when you need it.
July 20, 2024
Written by our in-house Grief Counselor, Amanda Nelsen.
March 31, 2021
In the last few paragraphs of Greg McKeown’s book, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less , the author tells a heartbreaking story of a man whose three-year-old daughter has died. The father wished to put together a slideshow of her little life to play at her funeral. He had documented on his camera every outing he’d ever taken with his daughter, and he had hours of footage. But as he scrolled through the thousands of photos and videos, he realized, with growing alarm, that nearly all the images he had captured were of the sights, views, meals, and landmarks of their trips. He had practically no close-up images of his daughter. He had failed to recognize what was essential in his life until she was gone.
November 17, 2020
Dear Ted,
October 23, 2020
Dear Ted,
October 2, 2020
The Guest House This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.The dark thought, the shame, the malice.meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.Be grateful for whatever comes.because each has been sentas a guide from beyond.— Jellaludin Rumi, translated into English by Coleman Barks
September 21, 2020
The first known obituary dates back to about 60 BC, found carved into the stone and metal tablets hung in the Forum of Julius Caesar’s ancient Rome. The obits section of these “early newspapers” was considered part of Rome’s social news, listed alongside gladiator battle results and notable marriage announcements.
More Posts
Share by: