The holidays are coming and I’m not ready! I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready! It’s dark outside and it’s cold. So we turn up the heat and turn on the lights, but the lights we turn on do not seem to pierce the emptiness of this winter season. As we set the dishes and count the silverware, we are acutely aware of the EMPTY PLACES at the family table. We try to find the holiday spirit, but WHEN THE FAMILY CIRCLE HAS BEEN BROKEN BY DEATH, THE ONLY THINGS THAT SPARKLE THIS SEASON MAY BE TEARS.

The holidays season can be a time WHEN THE PAST AND THE PRESENT COLLIDE. We try to capture what we once had or blot out bad memories. We try to ignore the empty chair. We try to ignore the pain and emptiness in our soul.

While most of the world seems to be addressing holiday greeting cards and planning holiday menus, the bereaved are struggling with other concerns: HOW LONG DOES GRIEF LAST? WILL THE HOLIDAYS ALWAYS BE THIS AWFUL? WHAT DO WE DO WITH THE EMPTY PLACE AT THE TABLE? WHAT IS THERE TO BE THANKFUL FOR THIS YEAR?

Maybe nothing seems quite right in your house or in your heart this season. Can you ever be happy again? Will the sights and sounds of the holiday season ever touch you again? Will there ever be LIGHT again?

We hold our breath and hope the holidays go quickly. We doubt we can endure too long. We sit in the dark, because we think we have forgotten the light.

We wish for some sign of hope in the season of icicles, some magical sign that will keep us going until the warmth of spring arrives. We turn on all the lights in an attempt to chase away the grief.

Maybe all you want this year is for January to quickly follow November. TOO LATE! It’s the holidays and we’re stuck! Green, red, bright, shiny or blue .... the holidays are here and what can we do?

We have EXPECTATIONS of the season, each other and ourselves. We have a MENTAL PICTURE OF HOW THINGS OUGHT TO BE. But often those expectations are based more on FANTASY than REALITY. And we measure success and happiness on HOW CLOSE WE COME TO THOSE EXPECTATIONS.

HANDLING THE HOLIDAYS IS NOT A QUESTION OF HOW TO ELIMINATE PAIN AND GRIEF FROM OUR LIVES, BUT HOW WE CAN LEARN TO LIVE WITH THE HURT AND GRIEF RATHER THAN BE CONSUMED BY IT.

It’s been a long time since I endured my 1st bereaved holiday season. But even now, my heart sometimes still echoes with emptiness as I roll out the cookie dough or hang his special ornament on the tree. I think that hurt will always be with me, but now I know it only as momentary. Not like the 1st year when grief washed over me in waves, each new wave hurling me deeper and deeper into despair.

And it’s not like the 2nd year’s hurt when I found myself both surprised and angry that IT hadn’t gone away yet. I grew anxious about my sanity in the 3rd year when my hands shook as I unwrapped the precious ornaments. When was I going to be better? When was the grief going to end? Was I doomed to suffer miserably at every holiday for the rest of my life?

The year the little satin balls wouldn’t stay on the tree, I gave up. One year, several years after our son had died, we found ourselves stationed in the far north regions of the United States. We were a military family and we were snowbound in deep drifts of a severe holiday blizzard. My husband was away on assignment, so my 6 year daughter and I were alone for the holidays. I was deep in despair and decided to cancel Christmas. I just didn’t have the energy or spirit to pretend any longer that everything was all right. NOTHING was all right! Our son was dead. My husband was gone and we couldn’t even get home. It was well below zero and the spirit of the holidays simply hadn’t penetrated my grieving soul.

So, I did nothing to prepare for the holidays. My daughter was more confused than sad, but even she had little spirit. We didn’t even get a tree. I didn’t send cards and there were no spicy smells of cookies baking or twinkling lights at our house.

But by Christmas Eve, I knew that something was terribly wrong. Instead of feeling better because there was no holiday spirit in our house, it felt even worse! So, we bundled up against the cold and went foraging in the woods for a tree. It was so cold that we only lasted a few minutes and ended up at the tree lot on the corner….late on Christmas Eve.

Do you know what kind of trees are left on Christmas Eve? We had our choice of 3, and all three of them together did not make a decent tree! We adopted the best of the lot and dragged the poor thing home.

We got out the lights and decorations and then I remembered why I had gotten married….men do lights! However, we struggled and eventually, we had a tree, of sorts.

We sat in the dark and watched our little tree, twinkle in the cold darkness. But as we watched, one of the little satin balls fell off the tree. Another one fell and then some of the tinsel slid off a branch. And then, some needles fell to the floor and then a small branch sagged…and fell. As we watched, our tree slowly undecorated itself!

“Oh Mommy!” my little girl cried. “Are we that sad that we killed the tree?” I knew we had reached the bottom of despair. Had our grief so permeated our house, our lives, that even a Christmas tree could not survive? Our son’s death was more than enough….had we lost love and hope, too?

I threw that tree out that night, leaving a trail of shedding needles in the carpet and all along the snow bank. We went to bed and prayed for spring.

But spring didn’t come the next morning and I knew we could not let everything die. So, in the middle of that Christmas Day, now so many years past, we returned to that bare, stick of a tree now frozen in the snow bank. And carefully, we hung the bare branches with popcorn strings and tinsel. I’m sure we were a strange sight that afternoon, but with a mixture of tears and snowflakes, we began to let the hurt out and make room for healing to begin.

With each kernel strung, we found ourselves remembering…some memories came with pain. Others began to grow within us, warming heart-places we thought had frozen long ago. But by the time we finished, we were exhausted. Memories take a lot of work! We had a tree, although it was not the one we were expecting (but then, who expects a loved one to die?) But we had one, decorated with tears and memories, sadness and remembered laughter.

We kept a tiny twig from that frozen tree, to remind us of what we almost lost. I tried to cancel Christmas! I tried to toss out love because it sometimes hurts. That was the year we chose to let Christmas come back And that was the year we learned that life can become good and whole and complete once again. Not when we try to fill up the empty spaces left by loved ones no longer within hug’s reach, but when we realize that love creates new spaces in the heart and expands the spirit and deepens the joy of simply being alive.

When we learned to let the hurt out, there was room for hope and love to return. Now we don’t have to wait for joy to return for we know it lives within us, where Christmas is EVERY DAY.
Let this collection of thoughts guide you as you navigate the twists and turns of your grief journey through the holidays. May you find hope and peace within its pages and ways to remember the life of your loved one, not just the death.

Whatever holiday this is for you, MAY LOVE BE WHAT YOU REMEMBER THE MOST!

© Darcie D. Sims