Can I just say…..”THANK GOD THE WINTER HOLIDAY SEASON IS
OVER?!!!!” I absolutely hate this time of year. Let me clarify, I do not hate
what Christmas represents: the birth of our Lord and Savior, but I hate what it
has become in our collective cultural consciousness. I could say I hate Thanksgiving and New Year’s
Eve equally, as well. No other holidays
put as much pressure or have the ability to send us into a pit of despair as much
as the Winter Holiday Trinity. At least
for me, that is.
I was trying to determine why that is and I think it has to
do with the fact that those holidays revolve around family and being enfolded
in the warmth, love, and acceptance of those closest to us. It’s a time where
we assess the success of our lives.
It’s a time where we evaluate our worthiness. It is also a time where we may find ourselves lacking, maybe in
the deepness of connection or with estrangement in our relationships. For some
reason this time of year shines a glaring spotlight on what we feel we don’t
have enough of, whether it be material things or relationships. We make lists and take
inventories, in order to start over, to be better in the new year. The air is filled with songs that evoke nostalgic feelings of
love and togetherness. The essence of those songs are nostalgic
to us all, even if what they describe never happened to us individually, because they are ingrained in our culture. The nostalgia stokes the home fires and strums the heart strings, drawing us into a longing for the warmth, love, and happiness of days gone by. They keep us looking backward, all the while invoking the
fantasy of "happily ever after".
Our society has a hang up with "happily ever after". We foster the idea in our little girls, especially. To grow up and find Prince Charming and live
happily ever after, as Princess in her own fairy tale. And so too we foster it in our expectations
of the holidays. A time for miracles and family, all gathered in love and harmony. While those ideals are all
well and good, they are elusive to many. Traditional family is almost a thing of the past. Most families today, have
experienced serious sadness and division.
Divorce is rampant.
Loss is often felt more poignantly during this time, and instead of feeling grateful
for family, we end up feeling the loss more acutely and abundantly. I don’t think I’m too far off the mark when I use the term “we”. At this stage of my life, it is inevitable to experience loss. Paul and I have experienced a great deal of death and loss. We have lost my parents, his parents, the
majority of my aunts and uncles, and now our son. We are not special in that regard. Many friends, family, and acquaintances have suffered bitter
divorces, deaths, debilitating illness, or some form of loss, and they too, know grief. We all know grief in some form, because we all live in the realm of a finite human existence.
Our last Christmas with John, 2016 (Left to right: Olivia, Lily, John, August) |
This season took me by surprise though....how hard it was going to be. I wasn't expecting it because this was to be the second holiday season
without my son. I thought for sure, my
children, husband, and I would have come to acceptance and been on the mend by now.
Last year we were all numb, and there was no expectation for any great
celebration, because John’s death was fresh and only six months old. But here we found ourselves, on the threshold
of the season of “family gatherings” and completely unsure of how to navigate. We found ourselves in uncharted waters
without our bearings. I can say for
myself, that I have been unable to be a beacon for anyone. I told Paul, apologetically so, that it was
all I could do to keep my head above the swells and that I could not carry him
through this season. He, in his stoic
style, dove deeper into his life preserver of keeping busy with his new duties in the officiating world and with his job. The kids have coped with their issues, by
staying busy with their school work, jobs, and connecting with friends. I was
quickly discovering that what should be the happiest time of year, was turning out
to be a desperate time of year for me.
Paul and I talked and decided we would spend Christmas away
from home this year. I couldn’t bear
putting up the Christmas tree. That was
always John’s favorite thing to do. He
was in charge of the tree trimming, and without him and his childlike glee in doing so, I had no spark or
desire to do it. Also, Olivia would be starting her
Police Academy training the first of the new year and Lily would be finishing her nursing degree
next December. We knew that both of them would likely be working next year, since crime and sickness don’t observe Thanksgiving, Christmas, and
New Year’s Eve. We felt this was our last hurrah, so we gathered the kids and told them we were going to have our last real family vacation over the Christmas break. Paul used all his airfare points to get our plane fare and he managed to find cheap hotel rates in Key West, since peak season begins after New Year’s down
there. Everything fell into place perfectly, and I thought this was our solution to escape the storm of despair that was
brewing on the holiday horizon. How
wrong I was!
While our social media pictures might have looked as if we
were having the time of our lives, it was not the whole truth. And, isn’t that so often how it goes with social
media? Pictures that portray a perfectly false reality, and not
necessarily with the intention to deceive, at least on my part. For several of those close to me, knew there
were struggles and those who didn’t know,
could not see the cracks through the glossy, smiling pictures we posted. Why would the world think anything less? We stayed in a beautiful resort and ate at nice restaurants. We went parasailing. We held baby alligators and rode on airboats
through mangrove forests. We kayaked
through the sound and saw the native flora and fauna. We walked the quaint neighborhoods of Key
West and saw sights and heard sounds that we would see nowhere else in the
world. Yet, we flowed through it all
numb and dazed, as if shell shocked. My son August, was difficult and distant.
He was surly and a wet blanket about every activity. By Christmas Eve I had had enough of his
childish antics.
He and I were in the hotel room alone, while Paul and the
girls went to pick up our pizza, and I confronted him. I was not as compassionate or empathetic as I
should have been, I realize now. And he has since apologized in his maturity and strength of character. But that evening he began to cry and told me that this was not a family vacation to him, because John was not with us. He said It was scary to him, because he realized we would never again have a family vacation, as he knew them to be. He said he didn't want to go on this trip, because he wanted things to feel like a normal Christmas at home. The kind he had always known.
It was the confession of my boy, through his gasping sobs and heart wrenching tears, that I realized the truth. We can run, but we cannot hide. The shadow of grief is just that, a shadow and it is sticking with us. A shadow by nature is the dark side of light. Light shines on an object and casts a shadow, a copy of the original. It follows and haunts and is inescapable. I also recognized that while it is inescapable, it does not have to overpower us and it doesn't have to be a bad thing. It can never get out in front of us, it is the past. All we have to do is keep looking ahead. The shadow cannot overtake us, as long as we remember its place. It is good to acknowledge it and then keep moving on.
It was the confession of my boy, through his gasping sobs and heart wrenching tears, that I realized the truth. We can run, but we cannot hide. The shadow of grief is just that, a shadow and it is sticking with us. A shadow by nature is the dark side of light. Light shines on an object and casts a shadow, a copy of the original. It follows and haunts and is inescapable. I also recognized that while it is inescapable, it does not have to overpower us and it doesn't have to be a bad thing. It can never get out in front of us, it is the past. All we have to do is keep looking ahead. The shadow cannot overtake us, as long as we remember its place. It is good to acknowledge it and then keep moving on.
Not only had I been dreading Christmas, I had also been concerned
with the week after Christmas. In years past, Paul had those two weeks off of work and the kids were all home and it was an extended family staycation. We spent a lot of time together. But times have changed, circumstances have changed, and the kids have grown up. I was not interested in being home alone, while everyone was away doing their thing. And I sure didn't want them hanging around babysitting me in pity. I
dreaded the thought of being alone at home with the ghosts of Christmas pasts. So, in my panic to escape the pain of the
holidays, I signed myself up for a yoga training class in Palm Springs, CA. I convinced my friend to go with me, because
while I can do things alone, I would rather share the experience with someone.
We went to Palm Springs and I stretched myself, literally and
figuratively. I had fun and I learned a
lot. I met new people, made new friends, and saw
new sights. My friend and I are like
Lucy and Ethel, from I Love Lucy renown, and we enjoyed creating comedy out of chaos. But on my flight home, the same realization I had with my son in the hotel room came to me again. I recognized that I had not escaped what I feared. For, when all the
distraction is gone, I’m still in the world by myself.
I’m still alone in my grief. I’m
still finding my way to a new normal and that takes time. The good news is that I have hope, because I'm really not alone after all. I have a shadow and it is an extension of me. It is the experiences that have helped to grow me into the woman that God has designed me to be. Growth does not occur without death, which is nothing more than a catalyst for change, and change is good. It can be painful and it can be scary, but in the end it is good and serves a purpose.
In my selfish desire to escape my distress from the holiday season,
I forgot that painful things live within each of us and affect us individually
and in different ways. What may seem
upsetting for some…putting up a Christmas tree, celebrating with estranged family
members over a meal, listening to nostalgic music, may be the healing balm to another. I
guess what I need to remember is that we all have a hard time and we all need
the space to move through it in a way that feels right for each of us. The most important thing is that we need to talk about it and acknowledge it
rather than to try and run from it. And we need to keep
a spirit of gratefulness in all things. Because
great things did happen this season!
I was able to spend a enchanting evening experiencing the childhood excitement of Christmas fun with my friend and her younger children. I spent a lovely, warm, and cozy afternoon making Christmas cookies with another friend's kids. My daughter’s and I shared the exhilarating experience of
parasailing. My teenage son and I shared a rare intimate moment of honest vulnerability. Our family was able to witness our youngest
daughter get engaged and we are growing with the addition of a
new son and his family. Paul
and I shared a wonderful dinner and laughter with our children and their
significant others, one evening over the break. I had
lunch with my old friend from college days, and we spent the afternoon catching
up, laughing, and picking up right where we left off. I found that we all managed to live through
the holidays with shared joy and grief and we are the better for it.
So here we are....the first week of January 2019 having already come and
gone and it’s another bittersweet anniversary, because today is my late dad’s
85th birthday. But I have
memories of him and that is a gift. I can tell it's going to be a year of growth and richness. I have already learned so much this year and I think by sharing these lessons, others can benefit. I've learned that while in my finite human existence I may lose family, I also gain family, because family is not dictated by heredity alone and does not have to be traditionally defined. The idea of family is relative, literally. It is those people in our lives whom we love and that love us back. And our time with them is special all year long, not just over the holiday season. I've learned that I'm never really alone, for I have a shadow, who at first appears to be weighing me down, but who is actually propelling me forward in newness and change. I just need to remember to acknowledge my shadow while looking ahead, with hope, to the future. I need to stay present and enjoy the sweet moments when they happen. And most of all, I need to remember to embrace the pain with joy
and gratefulness. For life is bittersweet,
and we will never know the sweet, if we don’t taste the bitter.
drb 1/7/19