I was motivated to write this blog by a discussion of the Psalms with a group of women I joined in this spiritual exploration. This title was inspired by the last line in verse 18 of Psalm 88. The Psalm is a "Cry for Help" in Lamentations.
Whether we celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza or any combination, we are expected to be happy, merry and bright. That is a heavy lift when we have suffered the loss of a child whether recently or some time ago. There will always be an empty seat at the table, a missing place at religious services, an empty seat on the plane, missing gifts and a somber visit to the cemetery. Along with many lost dreams and never achieved milestones.
So how do we get through the holiday season under these circumstances? Forcing ourselves, sometimes, to take part in festivities when we we would rather be alone with our thoughts. How can we be there for our living children, our spouses and other family and friends?
Remember, God has given us this time with other family and friends. We still have someone. Someone who loves us and wants us to love them. Living children, spouses, our siblings and our own parents. Of course it would be even better if our deceased children could be with us, but they cannot. So, let's focus, instead, on the people, place and time at hand.
I know we may feel we are playing a role, but that's okay. We often feel we are leading two lives--one with a happy face and I have it all together. And the other face screaming, "What is wrong with you people? Why don't you understand I lost a child and I cannot really be here with you." It's okay. This is the way it will be. In time, the two identities will merge into one more collected version of ourselves. We can learn to get through our grief. Holidays will get easier as our grief gets less raw. Or some of us may go overboard with celebrations to cope with our grief. We do what we can to handle celebrations in our own way.
I would advise avoiding large gatherings if you can. I lost my son in mid-September, my husband in early November and suddenly Christmas arrived. I remember being at one gathering where I felt like Mary Lincoln. As if everyone was staring at me and waiting for me to go mad. Another, I had to leave a party of co-workers, because another nurse was going on in detail about her efforts with students with learning disabilities. My son, Chris, had ADD. I just could not listen to her. Fortunately, the hostess was a very good friend of mine. She had her son move his car. I left by the backdoor to allay my painful memories. So I learned to go to smaller gatherings where I knew everyone very well.
It is still possible to set a place at the table for a missing child. Then have a family toast to our deceased son or daughter. I also bought gifts for my son's room for several years. It just felt good to buy him a present. I still have those gifts today. I think they will follow me to my grave. Either go to the cemetery or not. Do what you can handle. I usually go, but found it difficult to go by myself. I suggest asking a close relative or friend instead of going by yourself. It is easier now because my new husband goes with me. He lost his wife and a granddaughter. So we understand that each other needs to go to the cemetery and keep old photos displayed.
There will always be people who will make stupid, insensitive remarks to you. The year after my son died, a woman at a Christmas party remarked to me, "I hope you are better now. It's been a year. You should be over all that now." I mention this so you can be prepared. I told the woman it was simply not possible to get over both the deaths of a husband and son in one year. One year's time to "recover" from grief is probably the biggest myth about grief. Also, the concept of closure is a myth. We can have closure in a legal sense if someone is brought to justice for our child's death. Justice helps, but does not bring closure to the death itself.
The death of a child is like a book with many unfinished chapters. We can imagine or write these chapters in our head or on paper. I believe this can help the grieving process. Or write about our child's happiness, health and safety in heaven. We can assure ourselves of God's mercy and goodness and that our children are being well looked after in the heavens. Try to take comfort in their well being. While we can have faith in our children's well being, I know we would rather have them with us. Of course. We have not reached that spiritual plane. We rely on our human senses. God will and should decide when we will be re-united with our children.
I wish loving thoughts and the best possible Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanza for you. I will think of you and pray for you. Please pray for me. Send any comments and follow me below. Thank you.
Rosemarie
"Hear my prayer; listen to my cry for help." Psalm 88: 2
If you have thoughts of harming yourself or ending your life, call 988 or 911 for help at once!
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