Getting Through

I decided to see what other thoughts I could find about this challenge of getting through the holidays.  I just love to go to Google and type in some very specific thought and see what comes up.  So I went and simply typed in "getting through the holidays after a loss" and voila, there were eight trillion articles.  Well, not quite that many, but a lot.

One of the first ones listed was an article sponsored by a PBS website/program called This Emotional Life.
The article was done by a Dr. Camille Wortman, who specializes in studies regarding devotes her practice to dealing with grief with a special focus on sudden tragic loss.  The article is very clearly written in an outline format, with very specific suggestions.  I felt very good that a lot of things Dr. Wortman speaks to are things I have often talked about in this blog.  On the other hand, clearly this woman is an expert and professional in this area, so the article is very thorough and insightful, and I highly recommend looking at it for suggestions and help.  I attempted to set up a direct link, but I think it is protected because it is part of the PBS website.  However, if you go to google, and just type in:

getting-through-holidays-advice-bereavement

you will definitely obtain the article.

One of the things Dr. Wortman wrote about was "the ambush", which is something I have talked about so often.  What she says is that there will always be those things that happen that we simply can't prepare for or avoid because we just can't see them coming.  The example she gave was about a woman bringing out her Christmas tree ornaments, and suddenly finding one that her son had made for her when he was small, including his palm print on the ornament.  Of course this poor mom dissolved into tears, and her bravery in attempting to carry on and have a tree in the first place, was poorly rewarded by this extra bittersweet moment.  Yet, how beautiful that she has that ornament, how special such a small thing can become when we are embracing the memories of a loved one.  It almost comes full circle to say that we have to continue to participate in rituals and celebrations, so that some day others can remember us and our participation.  And that ornament can be on her tree, and yes, her son who is gone too soon has literally left that little hand print one her life and so many others, so visible on that tree.  And if it makes her too sad this year, she can put it toward the back of the tree so she doesn't have to see it all the time, and perhaps as each year goes by, the ornament can be moved forward and upward, to a more prominent place.  It is hard work, this grieving business, but we can do it, and with some thought, salvage even the hardest of moments.

For myself, I seem to never stop learning something new when I try to think about things, or even literally do research.  And it makes me feel connected to read about what others do and/or what advice others give.  As I am thinking about this, I am remembering that I usually say "whammo" about these moments.  You know...I was doing okay, and then, "whammo", there was that object, that song, that word, that little boy who looked just like Erik, and for a moment, I have to get a grip.  At first, it may cause a complete meltdown.  But then, it becomes easier to have the thought and keep going.  And in the end, would I ever want to live in a world that doesn't remind me of Erik when I least expect it

...hhhmmmmmm...that's an easy answer.  Of course not.  I will always be grateful for the sudden reminders, for as many times as they may make me sad, they also make me smile.  And that's what we do for the people we love.  We have feelings, for without our feelings, who would we be?

The Holidays are Back

I think that Christmas has snuck up on everyone this year.  The weather was so mild, Thanksgiving was very late with only three and a half weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  And so here we are, Christmas is only two and a half weeks away...incredible!

When I think about the holidays and people we miss because they have left us, I am realizing more and more, each year, that every situation is so different, and it is different for two main reasons.  Each person lost to suicide was unique and special, and played a specific role in our lives.  And, each of us is very different, and were at different places in our lives when we were thrown into this turn of events of learning to live with suicide loss.

So our heartache is intense on an equal level for equal reasons, but the resolution is so different for everyone.

When I lost my son, I was already in my late fifties, and had been recently divorced.  My holidays were becoming quieter and more nostalgic already.  No more major trips for toy shopping, no more back to back turkey dinners for my family and my husband's family.  No more juggling going to my mother-in-law's or sister-in-law's for Christmas Eve and then my sister's for Christmas Day.

So, were my son still here, my holidays would be quieter and feel different anyway.  I am trying to
remember that.  Granted, losing my son takes all of this a step further, and while each year is easier than the last, I have made my peace with the fact that there will always be limit to my anticipation for Christmas.  To put it simply, jolly is just not part of my Christmas vocabulary.

In some ways, this makes me feel sad, or almost guilty, but as they say..."it is what it is".  I do my best, and I will enjoy most parts of the upcoming weeks.  I tend to steer clear of Christmas music and certain movies, and I avoid the toy stores.  I have learned to try to assess a situation ahead of time, and figure out where the land-mines might be.  And then I do my "count my blessings' routine, and find my joy in that.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that I am thinking of those who don't have the same options.  I can't imagine what it would be like to get through a first Christmas after losing your husband. and have to still be there for your young children, or to be a newly-wed and suddenly have lost a brother or parent, and your mate is at a loss to console you.  For this exact moment, I am actually trying to remember what I did the first Christmas...I honestly can't.  Partly, this will be my fourth holiday without Erik, and some of the past ones are starting to blur together.  Last year seems the clearest to me, and I was blessed to be with my son and grandchildren, and a new man in my life.  We made turkey dinner and presents were fun.  I was able to get some of the old sparkle back.  But it takes a long time.

One good thing is that there seems to be a lot of recognition that in general, everyone doesn't get to have a Norman Rockwell Christmas.  People have loss, people are fighting illnesses or have lost jobs, and the joy of the season seems to sometimes be a cruel reminder of things that are not joyous.

So what do we suicide survivors do about this?  We do what we always do...we survive, and as time goes on, we start to thrive again.  For those who this Christmas is one of the firsts, my heart and prayers go with you.  Do your best.  Cry but try to find moments to share with others to find at least a little peace and quiet happiness.  Do not try to be brave...do what you need to do for yourself, your family and friends will understand.  Cling tightly to where ever you find love, be it your Faith, your family, friends, or a place of comfort - your home, a place of volunteer work, or a getaway in the country.  You have my personal exemption from having to do anything...if the stores drive you crazy, and you leave in tears, stay out of them.  Go to the drugstore and get gift cards for everyone.  If you used to bake cookies, go to the bakery.
Take care of yourself, and get good sleep.  Try to get out to a friend's or a coffee shop.  Do something you never thought you would do...like adopt a pet, (or try writing).  If you go to counseling or support groups, go more often.  Or, in the end, just keep breathing, get through these extra hard days, so you can get back to a slightly easier road to recovery, to start a new year, to build back up and think forward more often than back.

Do what you gotta do, it is what it is, and know that some day, you will find peace and joy again, and it won't necessarily be Christmas.