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The hustle and bustle of the holiday season is already beginning. It's evident in the
check-out lines in stores. Carts or arms are brimming with purchases. It's also apparent
in the attitudes that people express. Early in the season there is a sense of joy-the
miracle part of Christmas when good moods prevail and everyone is wrapped up in the joyous
preparation. These are fortunate.
Each of us, as good little Santas, seeks the perfect gift. When we shop early we're
more selective. We're confident we'll choose just the right thing. As time gets nearer to
the holiday, we see the selection process less selective and the attitudes and moods less
buoyant. People just want to get the "process" over with.
I can see those things in people now when I stop and really observe. I played the role
as Santa, just like them, for many years myself. And I still continue to do so but with
less enthusiasm than before. There is something missing from the annual celebration-my
son.
Although its been four holiday seasons since our first Christmas without Chad, we've
never been able to return to the popularity the holiday once had. Our hearts go out to
those who in this past year have lost loved ones. We can visualize what their holiday will
be like. There is an overriding sense of pain that hangs over the merriment that others
feel. It stifles the comfort of music, takes the fun out of tradition, and causes major
guilt at the thought of laughter. Grief and Ebenezer Scrooge make good bedfellows.
I realize only now what an important element of the holidays our loved ones are.
Chad was the special element that put thankfulness into Thanksgiving, happy in Birthday
and merry into Christmas. Playing Santa for him was always a challenge. Though he never
wanted any gift in particular, he could produce a list 16 pages long without much effort,
when asked. So whatever I ended up doing or buying was a surprise! But more than the gifts
were the good times. The piñatas and Santa visits as children; the hidden presents and
other traditions as adults. It was the family time, the fun, the relationships that
mattered. I am grateful for these memories.
It's hard to believe we're facing our fifth Christmas without Chad. And you would think
by now I've adjusted to the "new" traditions. But it's very easy to slip back in
time to that first holiday after his death. I wasn't sure if I would survive. From the
beginning of deer hunting through Thanksgiving and his birthday, to the conclusion at New
Year's Day, every weekend carried its own celebration.
That first holiday after his death, my heart ached with every thought of celebration. I
couldn't find a way to celebrate anything that would bring me comfort. I tried all the
things one is supposed to do to cope with the approaching holidays, but nothing seemed
right. I talked to my family early on about "changing our traditions"-doing
things differently. I remember clearly sitting at a rest spot on the golf course with my
sister in August, already trying to decide how our family was going to handle the
holidays.
It's no wonder that by the time the holidays arrived my anxiety level had peaked. And
all I wanted to do was to get it over with! I didn't make a very good Santa that year. I
couldn't care less if I shopped. It hurt to watch the children. I couldn't find peace in
the religious celebrations. I cried through every ornament I hung on the tree. I backed
out of Christmas Eve services at church because my heart ached and my eyes were red from
crying. And as much as I tried to make things normal for everyone else, I couldn't find a
bit of peace for myself. I was a Santa that had no reason to give thanks.
I was miserable by choice. I was angry at God for allowing my life to take such a turn.
I felt sorry for myself; and I wanted everyone to feel my pain. My husband and I still
felt disbelief that Chad's death had even occurred. I couldn't see the joy of the present
moment; I was too busy feeling the wounds of the past. And try as we did to deny it-the
reality was there, when he didn't come home for Christmas.
My attitude reminds me of this parable and its valuable lesson:
When times were tough, there were two farmers walking down a country lane when they met
a rabbi. The rabbi asked, "How are things going?"
The first farmer responded. "Lousy. My crops are poor; there hasn't been any rain.
My cow got sick . . . " And he continued to grumble about everything possible. God
was eavesdropping on this conversation. Lousy, he thought. You think your life is lousy
now? I'll show you what lousy is.
The rabbi turned to the second man and asked, "And you my friend, how are things
going for you?"
"Ah rabbi, life is good! God is so gracious and generous to me. Each morning I
awaken with a new day before me. I am so grateful for this gift. I know that no matter
what happens, rain or shine, it will unfold into wonderful blessings. Life is so
good."
God smiled at the second man's thankfulness and saw it soar upward to become one with
the heavenly host. Good? You think your life is good now? God thought. I'll show you what
good is.
Fortunately, we know our God is not a vengeful God. He doesn't choose our paths, our
attitudes, or our misfortunes. We make the choices; and sometimes, life just happens! It's
easy to give thanks when life is splendid. But giving thanks when life faces dark moments
is a priceless message of trust. Opening our hearts to our God may be as simple as giving
thanks for courage and strength to get through the situation. But we must take the first
step.
Today, with certainty, I can say, "Facing the holidays does get better and it does
get a little easier." The anticipation of my reaction on the first holiday without
Chad was much greater than the actual emotion I felt. Maybe I cried myself out before the
holidays ever came. However, for a brief time every holiday season, the nagging pain of
Christmas past beckons at my door reminding me of where I've been and where I am today.
Overcoming the desperation of grief takes work. Facing each and every holiday is a
necessary part towards healing the pain. We discovered early on that we couldn't run away
from the pain, nor hide the reality of inevitable change. All we could do was adjust our
attitude and change our state of mind. We had to face up to the question, "What are
we going to do with the rest of our lives?" Instead of fighting life-because of
Chad's death-we decided to live it!
Along with deciding to live it, there came choices. I wouldn't be at the point in my
grief where I am today if I hadn't made a choice to survive. In my new role as Santa, I'm
finding new ways of bringing hope back into a small part of the world-which puts meaning
back into Christmas for me. I'm convinced that when we put happiness into the present
moment, and live for that present moment, we put reason back into the season.
This year Gary and I chose to help others understand their feelings when the holidays
hurt. We chose to offer a workshop Holiday Help for Grievers; Managing the Emotions and
Modifying the Traditions. This workshop teaches coping skills for the newly bereaved. It
speaks from experience and speaks from the heart. It's our first holiday workshop, but
bound to be a new tradition.
In the darkness of the journey through grief, there are some shining lights. I am
warmed by God's goodness and mercy. I have made peace with my conscience and chased away
the doubts that could destroy me. I have changed because of my experience. Today the sun
shines on me.
In spite of my grief, I have been truly blessed. As the year comes to an end and the
holidays approach, I am focusing on my successes and those blessings I sometimes take for
granted.
- I am blessed to know that my God has not forsaken me. In my deepest moments of despair,
it would have been easy to turn my back on God and believe that this challenge was the
greatest of all. I was angry at God; I admit it. But I was blessed with knowing that no
matter what I felt or what I said in His presence, He understood. And even today, when I
have memory lapses and pity myself, He is there for me. What a friend I have in Jesus!
- I am blessed because I could choose my attitude and my choices gave me new options. That
doesn't make it any easier. I still miss the things I'll never have, but I don't ponder on
them anymore. I look for richness in something else: the return of the bluebird, the
companionship of those who care, the quiet moments, and new experiences. Who knows what
lies ahead?
- I am blessed with family and friends who value my commitments. How easy it is to get
wrapped up in something you believe in. And just as easily such commitments can be
misinterpreted by "outsiders" who don't understand. I have family and friends
that support me beyond a shadow of a doubt and make it easy for me to do what I find value
in doing.
- I am blessed because God has given me the gift of writing and I've found a way to use
this gift effectively. I've often commented that I always wanted to write, but didn't have
anything worth writing about. Chad's death was not the driving force I would have desired
to motivate me to write, but it happened. A friend commented last week, "Chad would
be very proud of you and the work you have done." Yes. I think he would have.
- I am blessed with a healthy mind, body, and spirit even though I sometimes take them for
granted. Of all the blessings that one could ask for; this is one of the most valuable.
Without it, I would be nothing.
- I am blessed with the gift of a new day each morning. My life is fuller now than ever
before. I have created purpose; and this purpose gives me reason to get up everyday and a
reason to smile. I recently saw an item in a mail order catalog which I should invest in.
It was a sweatshirt with this phrase: " God put me on this earth to accomplish a
certain number of things. Right now I'm so far behind, I will never die!"
An American artist crafted a figurine of Santa on bended knee, with his head bowed and
his arms folded, that instantly caught my eye. I can only guess at Santa's conversation in
prayer. Perhaps this interpretation is meant to capture the magic of Santa and the miracle
of Christmas that brings two stories together to serve a higher purpose. Or maybe it was
Santa giving thanks after his annual task delivering the packages to all the boys and
girls, in time. Or maybe it should be interpreted as Santa just giving thanks that the
holiday was finally over for this year!
In this season of seasons, I feel blessed. Life is a gift. And I have been empowered to
make it worthy. For my son, Chad, the gift of life was brief. But in the brevity of those
21 years, he lived and touched the lives of many. Most of all, he touched mine. His death
uncovered my weaknesses, but the spirit of his being has brought out the music in my soul.
My "new" or changed traditions are consistent with my heart. I'm enjoying
people and relationships because they are meaningful. I'm taking time to reflect. I remind
myself that it's okay to yearn for the past, but only momentarily. There is much to do in
the present. Our tree sparkles with ornaments that tell the stories of many beautiful
Christmas's past-ornaments which remind me of family who have died and gone before us.
Sparkling message of guardian angels. Stars of hope. Bells of joy. And the silent chorus
of beautiful memories-the greatest present of all. With all this to be grateful for, even
this Santa can give thanks!
November 11, 1997
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