I learned about grief most powerfully when my dog Herschel died. More than when I lost my parents, team mates or friends. He had been a wonderful companion for over twelve years. Grief came in waves. Initially an overwhelming, crushing sense of loss. I tried to parse out the feelings and only found guilt. He could not have been a better dog, but when I thought of the thousands of opportunities that I’d had to be a better dad (yes, he was my boy) I struggled to forgive myself because, while he was a part of my life, I was everything to him. How he lived, where he went, what he ate, were all my choices. I realized that this was similar to how I felt about being a Christian. Whereas focusing on God fills me with love and acceptance; focusing on my part in the church always filled me with guilt that I was never good enough. So I started focusing on my memories of Herschel rather than on my part in his life and I found that I was able to forgive myself and, rather than feeling guilty, simply miss him. I will always miss him but I have learned to be grateful that I had those twelve years with him. That has taught me to appreciate the people in my life that I care about by being present with them whenever possible because those opportunities are, tragically, finite. And I now see grief as reminder to be grateful that I had someone, like Herschel, to care so deeply about.