Christmas Care

I arrived to my parents home on Dec 22nd. The scene was set. The lights were dim, Christmas music playing and a glow of the Christmas tree filled the room with a gentle magic. My boys were elated to see their grandparents. Holidays had begun. It didn't take long for me to settle in and realize that my holiday had begun too. All that was ahead was celebrations.

There was 3 Christmas celebrations in 3 days. All were full of family and Christmas cheer. My boys were fully present in the moment enjoying cousins, opening presents and sharing their gifts. For the most part I tried to stay present....with their joy....our joy.

Their was a couple of instances where the sting of  grief crept up on me, or where waves a sadness grew inside me and welled out me before I could even take a deep breath. 

Over the past 10 years all my siblings little families  have began to grow, we transitioned from extended family Christmas's to immediate family. My mom started a new tradition of dressing more formal on Christmas Eve. This may come as a shock; but Gord loved this tradition. As I was getting ready Christmas Eve, I could so clearly remember his excitement. The excitement he had for something special, to watch his kids enjoy Christmas, to spend time with family, enjoying drinks, enjoying food...enjoying life. On so many occasions of dressing up I can remember Gord would comment that I was beautiful. I haven't heard him say that in 15 months. 

The second moment I remember becoming overwhelmed with emotion was at the dinner table during  Christmas Eve dinner. For the most part I haven't been the type to grieve publicly, usually I'm so grateful to be around people that I want to spend it socializing. It was one of those moments where I had the multiple feelings at once, contrasting, contradicting each other....but never the less they all existed at the same time. I felt full of gratitude. I could see so many great blessings in my life. I felt so loved. I felt surrounded by grace. I felt a high...where my soul believed that the world was a beautiful place...I felt a buzz. The buzz of the comfort and warmth family brings. In the exact same moment I could feel the deep loss. I could feel the void. Gord's absence felt so unavoidable. Somehow I could feel great love and great loss at the same time. I tried to contain my emotion, I didn't want to take away from the time together. As family comforted me, I realized it was an opportunity to acknowledge the loss, to acknowledge Gord....to remember Gord.

That night in bed, I found myself reminiscing of Christmas's past with Gord. I was overwhelmed with memories. I felt grateful to have these memories, I felt grateful that I had a husband that made his family a priority and made Christmas special. I was missing him so much...I wondered I how I would ever let go.

Boxing day was time to pack up and head home. I was relieved that all had went well but I was feeling exhausted and knew what was ahead. A  quiet home, holiday laundry and me, myself and I with the boys. Coming home continues to be a predictable time to grieve. Especially for Danny and I.  To go from family surrounding us, supporting us, and loving us to the three of us and myself depleted with not much left to give.

 I needed to unload the van, unpack, do laundry, meanwhile Noah wants to make Lego and Danny wants me to play Battle ship. All I could think is....where is my husband? That night I fell into sickness. I awoke with a severe fever that lasted two days. I put my boys in care....and I slept. My heart broke. I felt weak, I wanted someone to take care of me. At the same time I felt so bad that I had yet to build Lego with my boys, help them figure out their transformers and play battle ship. I thought about how much Gord would of loved doing these activities with the boys and so much better suited than I. I'm realizing that I don't only grieve what I lost but what could of been. 

I started regaining strength yesterday, and when I had time, I made Lego with the boys, played battleship...I still have yet to figure out the transformer. I somehow have to let go of the dream that Gord is going to be here to help raise them in ways of Lego and boyish things. I hope I can be enough...because for now this is what it is. At times like this it is hard to not fall into the thinking that my boys will end up disadvantaged. Rationally as a teacher, I know what's most important is that I provide them with opportunities and nurture their interests. Through friends, cousins, grandparents and friends of the family male role models will form.

I think I learned something from this Christmas. Next year when my boys ask to open their Lego at their grandparents, maybe I'll let them and ask grandpa if he could help. ;)

This journey continues to challenge me. Sometimes it can feel like I'm still at the beginning, other times I can look behind me and see how many mountains I've already climbed. I can see that I have forged a path....that I have grown, I have evolved, I have been healing.  What I can say for sure that this makes for a very full story, rich with heart and emotion. 

The second Christmas without Gord was more challenging than I  had anticipated. At the same time, it was a wonderful Christmas....and  Gord will always be one of the reasons why Christmas will be hard and will also  be one of the reasons why it is wonderful. He is always with us, in our hearts, in our minds...in our story. He may not be able to make Lego with my boys but I trust he will somehow always have a special way with them, to parent them, to love them.

Exchange Sorrow for Joy

 

I've been trying to write lately. It's forced. It lacks that feeling of flow. There  is often a  rewarding feeling of letting go and allowing something beautiful to appear in front of me. My writing has been stifled because I was trying to change reality. I was wanting to find some beautiful deep truth beneath my pain. It's hard to find right now....so this piece may not be beautiful, it may be sad, dark and full of the emptiness and loss I am experiencing right now. My hopes is that somehow the reality of my pain and grief might help someone else to not feel so alone in their grief.

I feel alone. It appears although others don't relate to the depths of my pain. The challenges of  the weight of this season being a single mom, along with the heaviness of the grief and a broken heart are hard to express.  I am crumbling beneath it all at times, I feel like I'm falling, like I'm drowning. I 'm losing all strength. Ironically I'm sleeping more than ever and eating more than I should....I just continue to feel tired.

I've reduced my expectations and let go of many traditions that I have often done in the past. I've  held onto the traditions that were most important for my boys.

I knew setting up the tree was not only going to be challenging physically but I remembered the year prior it was one of the most painful acts I went through. Opening a box of beautiful ornaments becomes a box of grief triggers. The void is just so huge.  Gord's absence felt massive. The day prior to setting up the tree I contemplated whether or not it was necessary to set up the tree. I wondered if I could settle for a smaller tree, I wondered if a tree at grandmas and grandpas could be enough. I felt like shutting down. I wanted there to be a skip button for the season. I wanted to just run away and escape this reality...escape Christmas. There are so many Christmas tasks that are accomplished better, enjoyed more with a spouse. Wrapping presents, packing, planning, travelling, setting up trees, setting up Christmas lights, pictures with Santa, attending Christmas concerts and Christmas parties....

However....I reminded myself of my two little boys. I reminded myself that last year my motivation to carry through with Christmas traditions was not optional.... they had lost enough! I realized this is still true. I realized I want them to continue having positive new memories. Right now, Christmas is not a grief trigger for them. Christmas is still all about Santa, presents and the magic that Christmas brings. I think if I can be apart of creating these positive memories; then in years to come when the grief might appear, they will have all these positive memories to keep their spirits lighter and brighter.

At times I find all the bright colors and the music to be overstimulating. I found myself just staring at the tree for the first week after I set it up. I wasn't enjoying the beauty nor the nostalgia it often brings. I felt confused, numb and empty. I felt like I was in a dream I didn't belong in. The contrast of the beauty of Christmas and my broken heart wasn't connecting. I felt a disconnect. I felt absent. I felt invisible.

I have re-entered another phase or perhaps bout of grieving. It's disappointing and discouraging. I was feeling like I needed to find a place of rest instead a new storm has erupted. I feel ill, It's often debilitating. Like in times past, I have good days and bad days and for the most part...I know how to function with it, I know how to live with it.

I've had to adapt. I have had to accept that I've been reduced back to eating out and packaged meals. I have had to accept that I needed to find more care for my boys so that I had more breaks. I've had to accept that sometimes I will use the tv to have more space. I've had to accept that I'm in survival mode....and that my energies are going towards making  a special Christmas for my boys. It gives me focus and a reason to persevere with the pain, with the loss.

On my good days it feels rewarding. On my good days it all feels worth the hard work of pushing though. But everyday, whether is it a hard day or not I see my boys joy and excitement for the Christmas season. On my good days I see that exchanging my sorrow for their joy is worth it. This year I feel like I am doing mission work. This year I am dedicating the Christmas season to my boys, to my husband.

Gord always had an enthusiasm for Christmas. But his greatest excitement and joy came from watching his boys experience the magic. I believe Gord is in heaven, watching us and is a part or our lives. Although his absence, the void, the loss seems unbearable at times. I am reminded that Christmas is a time when heaven and earth join, where heaven and nature sing. I'm sure Gord is surrounded by angels watching his family, I want him to have a good show, I want him to be full of joy watching his boys embrace the magic of Christmas.

I carry a heavy burden this Christmas season, but it will get lighter again. I might not always feel the rewards today for putting my boys first, but I do believe the rewards will come and they will last a lifetime. A life time of Christmas memories to bless their little hearts.

We placed a Santa hat on the mantle, It was the same hat Gord wore in Christmas's past. The boys and I love seeing it there. It is a reminder to us that he was amazing part of lives and continues to be the most beautiful parts of our hearts. Sometimes his presence fills the room.

Writing this has helped me to breathe easier. The weight of this all feels lighter. At times it may feel like I'm cracking under Christmas but as long as I continue to walk this journey, as long as I  keep the faith that is a just a process, that it is a journey worth embarking....someday I will find my rest, someday the storm will pass.

I'm reminded of a quote I have on a plaque given to me after Gord passed. It is on the mantel.

" Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning how to dance in the rain."