annsullivan's Journal

I know it is Tuesday but here is my thought from Monday - it was sent to me on Monday - does that count for Green Monday - by another grieving mother.....

Hugs, Ann

WHY IS THE CHRISTMAS THE HARDEST HOLIDAY?

by Darcie Sims

Why Is ChristmasThe Hardest Holiday? Is it because of all the  traditions that mean much so but now lie broken and empty in my heart? Is it especially hard now...because every time I try to roll out the cookie dough, tears drop into the little salt pools on the counter? Is Christmas so hard now because of all the tinsel and tissue? Because of all the crowds dashing madly into and out of the stores..buying something wonderful for someone wonderful? Is decoration any more. Is Christmas so hard because I don't have someone wonderful any more

It's been a long time since I endured my first bereaved holiday season, but even now, my heart sometimes still echoes with emptiness as I roll out the cookie dough  or hang his special ornament on our treasure tree. I think that hurt will always be with me, but now I know it only as a momentary ache- not like the first year when grief washed over me in waves each new wave hurling me deeper and deeper in despair

And it's not like the second year's hurt when I found myself both surprised and angry that IT hadn't gone away yet.'I grew anxious about my sanity in the third year when my hands shook as I unwrapped the precious ornaments. When was I going to get? ! Was grief going to end?! Was I doomed to suffer miserably at every holiday for the rest of  life?!

The year the little satin balls fell off the tree, I gave up. even the Christmas tree died! As my daughter and I dragged the brittle (and shedding) mess out into the snowdrift on Christmas morning. I know we had reached the bottom. He had died, but we were alive. Had our grief so permeated out house, our lies, that even a Christmas tree could not survive? His death was more than enough, had we lost love , too?

That was the year we began to understand. And that was the year we decided to keep Christmas anyway. So what if our now completely bare tree was stuck in the snowdrift, already waiting for the garbage man? So what if the cookies were still a bit to salty with tears? In the middle of that Christmas day, now years past, we returned to that forlorn, frozen stick of tree. And carefully we hung the bare branches with popcorn string and suet balls(not quite same as satin). I'm sure we were a strange sight that afternoon, but with a mixture of tears and snowflakes we began to let the hurt and make room for the healing to begin.

With each kernel strung, we found ourselves remembering. Some memories came with pain. Others begin to grow within us - warming heart-places we thought has frozen long ago, By the time we were finished we were exhausted. Memories take a lot of work! At last we had a tree (although it was not the on we were expecting), but we had one, decorated with tears and memories, sadness and remember laughter,'

And now we've grown older and a little wiser) and we've learned that love isn't something you toss out, bury , pack away, or forget. Love isn't something that ends with death, Life can become good and whole and complete once again not when we try to fill up the empty spaces left by loved ones no longer within hug's reach but when we realize the love  creates new spaces in the heart and expands the spirit and deepens the joy of simply being alive.

We saved a tiny twig from that frozen tree-to remind us of what we almost lost.That was the year we chose to let Christmas come back. Now we don't have to work for joy to return. FOR  now we know it lives within us-where Christmas is very day.