The Holidays are Here

 

Tomorrow is the official beginning of the holiday season.  The holidays are always an official signal for people to feel more stressed and busier than usual, and counselors and psychologists as well as all of us are painfully aware that while the holidays are meant to be times of great joy and happy gatherings, they often have a reverse affect on people.  And, unfortunately, the more difficult the situation a person finds themselves in, the more likely it is that the holidays may make them upset.

I was always known to my family and friends as a sort of “Christmas fanatic”.  I loved everything about Christmas, even when I was a working mom and it was very busy.  I loved just the visual aspect of it – the lights, decorations, colors, trees, miniature villages,  even the toy trains around the trees.  My tree had to be perfect, pretty but fun also, with a lot of wooden ornaments.  No matter how many ornaments I had, I was able to remember where each one had come from.  I could go on and on, about the presents, crèches, turkey dinners, cookies and pies, church services, music, and movies, but instead will just ask you to take my word for it, I loved Christmas.

I remember that when I was in my thirties and early forties I was always horrified by those who didn’t share my enthusiasm.  I just didn’t “get it”.  How could anyone not find pure glee in such an atmosphere of festive get togethers and family gatherings?  When I would return to work, colleagues would ask how my Christmas was and I would like to say we had a “Norman Rockwell Christmas”.  When the other person responded saying they were glad it was over, or worse, that they really didn’t even like Christmas, I would feel really badly for them.

Now that I have gone through a later passage of life, with ailing or deceased parents, friends who were lost to cancer, challenges with children, and my own divorce, I realize that many of those women from earlier years were older than I was and had a whole different perspective of holidays and what they mean to people.

Now, I “get it”.

Now in addition to fairly normal or expected life transitions such as loss of an elderly parent or divorce, I have the more tragic and unexpected loss of a child by suicide.

So if there is a normal downside or challenge to holiday festivities for many, many people for many reasons, I guess dealing with the holidays after a suicide loss may be considered an “extreme challenge”.  The challenges may be as varied as the people we lost and the role they had in our lives, but the challenges will be there.

I think the holidays provoke three reactions for people who are mourning a loss.

First, there is the simple fact that the every day sadness and struggles to not be too despondent are in direct conflict with the joyousness presented on every street corner, both visually and by sound.  At the conference, there was a lot of discussion about feeling different from others and somehow isolated after suicide loss.  I think that becomes so intensified when people are going out of their way to talk about buying gifts for others, planning parties and gatherings to celebrate, and enjoying the return to childhood many of us feel at Christmas time.  While we are already feeling detached, it may now be difficult to even participate in that kind of conversation with enthusiasm, and it can become easier to just hide away until January.

The second thing that makes it so difficult I think is that you are already missing the person, and the holidays are a prolonged reminder that they are supposed to be there...and,


again, to participate in normal everyday discussions means you will be hearing about people who can’t wait to see someone again, either from out of town or for a regular visit.  Or people are excited because everyone will be together to see each other at once.  Suddenly, just the mention of seeing another person is like a stab in the heart, because we are faced with the finality that no matter what we do, we can’t see the one person we would give anything to hold again for just one minute, for this holiday or any other one in the future.

And the third challenge the holidays bring, which for me is the worst I think, is the remembering.  The spiritual beauty of Christmas for most people, I believe, is the sense of continuity and literally the excuse to remember and talk more than usual about years gone by.  In a positive way, the holiday is celebrated to embrace these memories, one year building on the last, each strengthening the bond of families and friends who may get too busy for each other during the year, but make sure they set aside time for what is important during the holiday season.  The longer I am without Erik, the more I cling to the happier memories of his life, while he was growing up.  I especially often have glimpses of him in my imagination as a toddler, and certainly he was central stage along with my other son for all of those good Christmases.  So for me, as I attempt to enjoy parts of the holiday again more and more each year, it will always be coupled with those memories I am so grateful to have, but hurt so much to keep.

So, the holidays are coming.  If it is the first year after a suicide loss, I will revert to my thought that for this period of time, the goal is to just keep breathing.  There will be no way to avoid the pain.  You need to give yourself permission to do whatever it is you need to do.  No bravery or courage.  No putting on a front for others, with perhaps the exception of if you have little children, and even then it is a time to lean on others to help with that.

For the next few weeks, I will probably ponder and write about the holidays.  This is my third without Erik.  There have been things to do to help and make it at least bearable, and I would like to share those.  And in the end, it is part of the journey and survival, one of the rockiest parts, but one that can be gotten through, looking toward a smoother path once we make it.