Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2002. Mattie was 8 months old and though celebrating his first Christmas he was clearly aware that something was happening. Things were different ALL around him. He was fascinated by the tree, the lights, and the decorations that were all around him. Of course he was too young to get the ramifications of the holiday, but he tried to absorb it all. I was determined to get as many photos as possible of Mattie in front of our tree. So literally I wheeled his high chair right in front of the tree while he was eating and started snapping photos! Mattie tolerated a lot from me.... especially when it came to photography!
Quote of the day: I hear that in many places something has happened to Christmas; that it is changing from a time of merriment and carefree gaiety to a holiday which is filled with tedium; that many people dread the day and the obligation to give Christmas presents is a nightmare to weary, bored souls; that the children of enlightened parents no longer believe in Santa Claus; that all in all, the effort to be happy and have pleasure makes many honest hearts grow dark with despair instead of beaming with good will and cheerfulness. ~ Julia Peterkin, A Plantation Christmas, 1934
When I came across the article below, aspects of this mom's list resonated with me. Now one maybe asking yourself, why do I STILL need a list??????? Why haven't I bounced back?! Well unfortunately I am not the only one. Most parents who lost a child deal with some sort of issue around a holiday if not daily. They may not be as vocal about it as me, but chances are it is there and ever present. You just have to know what you are looking for. We learn to squelch how we feel because in our everyday society people DO NOT understand grief much less respect it. So instead of actively talking about the grief, the issues at hand, we are instead posting LISTS and how to GET OVER THE PROBLEM!!! The griever is the one labeled with the issue.
As I hear about my friends decorating for Christmas and writing their Christmas cards, I remember those moments in my own life. After all we used to do all these things when Mattie was alive. But once he died, those traditions died too. Just like Mebane elaborates in her article. It is a matter of reshaping traditions, and yet finding a way to do this isn't easy especially when you have no other children around to compel you forward.
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6 Steps to Survive The Holiday Season After Loss by Donna Mebane (Author, Mother, and Talent Consultant for a Major Financial Institution)
For years, I made my children listen to Bing Crosby as we decorated the Christmas tree. One day, I reasoned, I would be gone and I imagined them downloading 'ole Bing and carrying on the tradition with their own children. When they got to the song, "Think of Me" they'd pause, shed a little tear, think of all the good times we had, and be sorry they complained incessantly about it so many years before.
Three years ago, my youngest child, Emma, died. She was 19 years old. I no longer put up a Christmas tree. Perhaps someday I will again. But I know I will never, ever again listen to Bing Crosby.
I don't presume that what I have done to get through three sets of holidays is right for others. Everyone's grief is different, and so is their path to survival. My mother died on New Year's Day. My sister is a nurse and plans to work. My dad wants to do everything exactly as it had been done when she was alive. My brother, the introvert, plans to stay home, alone with his own thoughts. Each person knows what he/she can handle and to the extent possible needs to create the space in which to handle it.
The human being has an amazing capacity to keep standing... an amazing will to keep living. "I'd never survive the loss of one of my children," I'd say knowingly whenever I'd hear about such a horror. "I'd simply curl up in a ball and die." But I didn't. I still wonder sometimes how it's possible that I am still breathing. But breathe I do. Every day, countless times a day.
The holidays are still the worst of times, perhaps because at one time they were the best of times. These things have helped me. I hope they help you whether you are grieving the loss of a parent, a friend, a beloved pet or heaven help you, a child.
- Don't ask too much of yourself. You are not yourself. In some ways you will never be again. If you had lost a limb, you would not expect to go on as you had before. The first year, I didn't cook Thanksgiving dinner or shop for Christmas presents. I had other children, sure. But I didn't have Emma and that defined me. I gave IOU's for a family vacation to the other kids. It was easy and they were happy. If I had young children, I would have asked friends and family to shop for me. They would have. For that first year anyhow, they understood. Ask for help. You'll get it. People want to help. They can't bring your loved one back, but they'll do anything else they can. They'll be thankful they could do something meaningful for you.
- Reshape traditions. We used to share what we were most thankful for over dessert at Thanksgiving. We used to eat at the dining room table for special occasions. We used to put up a Christmas tree and open presents in the same spot in our living room. We hung stockings on our coat rack because Santa was ridiculously generous with stocking stuffers and they would fall off the mantle. We used to buy chocolate-covered strawberries for Valentines. They were Emma's favorites. We stopped doing those things. But over time, we started doing other things. We go to Christmas brunch. We have selected new seats for present opening in the family room. We don't hang stockings, we don't put up a tree, we don't use the dining room. But we have created new traditions that make sense for the reshaped family we have become. We have begun to look forward to these traditions.
- Find ways to include the ones you have lost. This Christmas, the first without my mother, I will make her favorite Christmas cookie which will forever now be dubbed Bobbie's pecan bars. Last Christmas, I bought presents for Emma's dad and siblings that were inspired by her -- we see her in the shape of a star and a cardinal and, once you start to look, you see them everywhere. I wrote little notes in her voice. They were the hit of the holidays and all are proudly displayed in special places. I can't wait to look for other Emma gifts this year. Spend part of the holidays looking for signs. You'll see them. This year on Thanksgiving morning, I looked out the kitchen window and there were literally dozens of cardinals all over the garden and in nearly every branch of the tree we planted the first year in Emma's honor. We laughed -- yes, laughed -- and speculated that Emma must have taught all of her friends to become cardinals too just so they could party at the Mebane house.
- Say her name. Tell stories about him. One of the common reactions I've heard from friends who have suffered loss is that no one talks about the person they've lost. They somehow believe that not doing so will help... that perhaps it will be too painful for you to hear their names. Of course it's painful. But it's even more so to pretend they never existed. I want everyone to remember every aspect of Emma. I want to hear the stories I know over and over. I want to discover stories I don't know. I need to know she mattered to every person who ever knew her. Even after three years, her best friends still post on her Facebook and I answer every one of them usually thanking them for "keeping Emma in your heart." People will take their cue from you. Talk about what you love most, miss most, makes you the saddest, makes you the happiest. Say her name and others will too.
- Take time for you. I have found that I need much more "me" time than I did before Emma died. I get tired more often, especially after time with family and friends. I take naps frequently. I often leave work to take a walk or just sit by myself in the lounge. I'm not the conversationalist I used to be. I am comfortable with silence. Me time may be tough to find during the holidays, but it's essential that you recognize when you need it and act on that need.
- Allow yourself to be sad but also to experience joy. It's okay to cry. Christmas will always make me sad -- my mom's death shadows memories of my own childhood; Emma's death shadows the present and the children she will never have will shape the future. I plan for sadness and I embrace it when it comes. I sit down by myself and write a letter to Emma or listen to her favorite songs or replay the slide show we played at her funeral. I walk right into the pain rather than try to hold it off. But I try to embrace joy when it comes too and it does come. It will come for you. It may be filtered through the hole in your heart, but it will come. You will laugh again and it will likely be during a holiday when the love of family and friends can't help but make you smile. Your laughter, when it comes, will be the greatest gift you can give to others. They are taking their cue from you. Be authentic. To be anything else takes too much effort.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/donna-mebane/6-steps-to-survive-the-holiday-season-after-loss_b_6269858.html
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