Christmas Grief
Christmas is supposed to be a magical time of year. A time for joy, laughter, caroling, giving and enjoying each others time. But for those who have lost a child it can be a truly devastating time of year, a most difficult holiday that is nearly impossible to face. After all isn’t this one of the most sought after, and cherished holidays in the hearts and eyes of children?
For those who become parents, the holiday changes drastically. Long gone are those childhood nights of eager anticipation as you squeeze your eyes tightly closed anxiously awaiting morning to come. Looking forward to that stampede down the stairs to so many differently shaped packages wrapped in colorful paper and adorning ribbons and bows.
Just when you thought the holiday couldn’t be more exciting you become a parent and experience it through the eyes of your own child. It is then that you realize the true joy of Christmas.
Christmas was my absolute favorite time of year and one I looked forward to with so much excitement every year. I loved watching the Hallmark movies just to see the way they decorated the houses and rooms which I used as my inspiration in decorating our own home including placing perfect little Christmas trees in the kids rooms.
My daughter Madison loved Christmas so much. For her it was more than the presents, she literally loved every aspect of it from making special treats with her siblings, picking out the perfect matching pajamas with her sisters and cousins, and selecting the most thoughtful gifts and helping wrap the presents. She loved it all.
After our last Thanksgiving together we went Christmas shopping where she once again picked out matching Christmas pajamas, but this time it would be for her and JonPaul.
She was so excited for them to wear them Christmas Day. We shopped Hobby Lobby and found some decorations for her dorm. And when we went back to USCB JonPaul came down and helped her bring in her bags and together they decorated her dorm while her sisters and I waited outside. She was so grateful and too excited to wait to decorate.
She came home and spent time with us all before getting picked up by her friends to go back to her dorm. On December 3rd I talked to her on the phone. We talked about her plans for the weekend, she said she and JonPaul would come to the house that Sunday to see the tree and Christmas decorations. I couldn’t wait for her to take it in as she was always so excited by it all.
Little did I know it would be my last conversation with her. I never realized the meaning of cherishing even the smallest of moments, fleeting little memories that may seem so insignificant at the time only to be etched into your memory like a tattoo on your skin. But I am and will forever be grateful that I had the opportunity to remind her of how proud I am of her, and how much I love her in that brief and final phone call.
That knock on the door by Highway patrol still haunts me to this day. Four years later and I still won’t answer the door if someone knocks on it. I still get paralyzed with fear and fool myself into thinking “if I don’t answer then whatever hell awaits me on the other side of the door will never happen.” The brain in itself is a strange phenomenon, the way it tricks itself in an attempt to protect itself.
It was three weeks before Christmas. I already had some gifts ready for her. The house was decorated and ready for Santa. But instead of joy and cheer my entire world came crashing down as I learned of my daughters fate.
I was destroyed. I was devastated, in denial, and angry. My daughter was gone, she would never see the tree, never open those gifts, never walk through that door again. Christmas as I knew it was gone too. All my love and joy for the holiday disappeared right before my very eyes. I truly believed I was never going to laugh again, never smile, and never experience joy.
A darkness took over me and consumed me. I never felt physical pain the way I did in that moment. I felt my heart physically break into pieces.
I dreaded sleep because it meant waking up again to the same endless nightmare. I started to lose hope as I lost more and more of myself.
Christmas still came, nothing can stop it. Came rushing in like a relentless freight train at 100 mph. It was kind enough to be quick, passing as fast as it came.
I barely remember anything of that day. Before I knew it year one was coming to a close and Christmas number 2 without my beautiful girl was once again quickly approaching. My poor children and husband…. they were living with the offspring of Scrooge, and the Grinch all wrapped in one. Only the ghosts of Christmas past and present that haunted me would not help me see the joy, and my broken and devastated heart didn’t stand a chance of growing even one size bigger.
I tried to avoid the holiday, skip it altogether. I realize now how selfish it was of me, I was so focused on nursing my wounds and facing my anger that I lost sight of what mattered most….my surviving children, my husband, family and friends. They needed me to be ok but I just wasn’t ready. Even in the darkness of these early Christmas days they still supported me, never pressured me to do anything, feel anything, or fake being happy.
They were so very patient, kind and hopeful as they watched helplessly from the sidelines as I continued to painstakingly navigate this new reality.
It’s now been four years. And maybe it’s a Christmas miracle. Maybe it’s the positive outcome of therapy, prayers, love and support. Whatever it can be attributed to, this is the year, the year I got my Christmas spirit back.
I still experienced some anxiety as I unpacked decorations that I haven’t seen since the Christmas when life as I knew it had come to a screeching halt. But I pushed through and I prayed and I sat in adoration with God.
My daughter loved Christmas so much, and I realized what a disservice to her memory and her favorite holiday it was by trying to let is pass by unnoticed, uncelebrated, and unrecognized. How could I do that to God?
I could no longer allow myself to be annoyed with the commercialization of his birthday. No matter what time of year it could have been when she died it still would have been hell.
The holiday isn’t responsible for her death. Jesus didn’t take the wheel that night. It was a tragic circumstance that caused irreparable destruction. I can’t control it but I can control how I handle it going forward.
I gently share this with you with the hope that no matter where you are in your journey that you will be kind to yourself and surrounded by love, understanding and patience as you navigate your way through this holiday.
With time comes strength and while that can be empowering it can also be terrifying. Fear that with strength comes loss of love or memory of them.
I promise you that is not the case. The love stays forever…undying…..unconditional love. The pain, it remains as well. Some days it will feel more dormant like it has gone into remission, but it always returns, sometimes when you least expect it. But I can assure you that when it does come you will be ready. It’s become a natural part of you, you will learn to embrace it because the pain is a result of the love. Great pain for great love. And when you think of it that way, you take control of it.
As for Christmas, it’s ok if you aren’t ready. That holiday is going to continue to creep up every single year without fail. It will be there when you are ready to embrace it, but until then be kind and patient to and with yourself for there is no greater Christmas gift than that.
Merry Christmas to you and your angels 🙏🏻🎄.