A Moment of Grace: Can Shared Loss Build Bridges Where Conflict Once Stood?

By: Rebecca Witherspoon, June 27, 2025

There’s a strange, beautiful thing that can happen in the wake of loss. When someone close to us passes away, especially a parent, the world momentarily shifts. The sharp edges of conflict soften. The lines that divide us seem less important, even arbitrary. Grief, it turns out, is a universal language—and when it speaks, even the most unlikely people sometimes pause long enough to truly listen.

Just shy of his 95th birthday, my dad passed away. While I wasn’t able to be with him in his final moments, I, along with my many siblings, had the extraordinary gift of being with him just a week prior to celebrate what would be our final Father’s Day together. We knew it was likely goodbye, and yet, that weekend was filled with poignant joy. There was laughter, shared stories, hand-holding, and love. My daddy’s eyes sparkled. His heart was full. And so was mine. There would be time for tears later. This moment was about bringing joy to the man who helped bring me into this world.

In the days following his passing, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of condolences and expressions of support. Every message, every gesture, touched me deeply. But one message in particular stood out—not because of what was said, but because of who said it.

It came from someone who, for many years, has publicly opposed me. Our political differences have made us adversaries in the most public of ways. She has not hidden her disapproval of me. And yet, when she learned of my father’s death, she reached out with genuine compassion and sympathy. She, too, had lost a parent recently. And in that moment of mutual understanding, she put aside our differences to offer something truly human: kindness.

I was stunned. Grateful. Humbled. And I wondered: Can this kind of moment—this single, fragile act of grace—be a catalyst for something more?

Her action reminded me of a dear friend who lives here in my village, one of the kindest and wisest souls I know. In response to recent local political tensions and acts of unkindness that have left many of us feeling bruised and wary, she created a private Facebook group devoted entirely to kindness. Its purpose? Simple, yet profound: to encourage neighbors to reach out with compassion and warmth, even to those with whom we disagree. She believes, as I do, that communities heal when people are willing to look past our perceived differences and make the choice to see each other not as caricatures or enemies, but as human beings carrying their own burdens.

Her initiative, and the unexpected condolence I received, both reminded me of just how powerful one moment of humanity can be.

It would be naïve to think that a single kind gesture erases years of conflict. It doesn’t. But it does make space for possibilities and hope. Space for reflection. Space for dialogue. Space, perhaps, for the first seed of reconciliation.

The truth is, we don’t have to agree with one another to treat each other with dignity. We don’t have to become friends to show empathy. But we do have to start somewhere. And shared human experiences—grief, love, joy, loss—might just be that starting point.

So today, I want to thank two women: one, a trusted friend and guide in my life, whose commitment to kindness inspires me daily. The other, someone I’ve long seen as a political opponent, who in a single heartfelt moment reminded me of the goodness that still lives in all of us.

If you’re reading this, I invite you to think about someone in your life with whom you’ve had deep disagreement. What would it mean to reach out—not to fix everything, not to erase the past, but simply to acknowledge our shared humanity?

Kindness doesn’t solve every problem. But it does open a door. And sometimes, opening a door is the most powerful thing we can do.