Christmas 2013

The holidays are not easy in this home anymore. I guess in reality they haven’t been since 1983. It started with my maternal grandmother’s death on Dec 12, 1983. It was my dad’s birthday. Then on Jan 6, 1984 (my parent’s anniversary) my godmother died. Christmas’ after that always had a cloud of sadness over them. I didn’t see it for what it was back when I was a kid.

Then Tony died in August of 2007. Christmas was his holiday. He was always happy at that time of year. He put joy in the holidays. It didn’t hurt that his birthday was the 1^st of January either. After he died, that first Christmas was hard. I remember putting on a smile and singing the songs and decorating. But then every night I would cry myself to sleep because it just wasn’t the way it should be. I watched his son open his gifts that year and my heart broke. I smiled and kept all the tears inside. I was strong and steady, and I faked joy with every word out of my mouth.

What I should have done was cry and scream, and just let it out. Instead I kept it under wraps and it about killed me. The following months saw me slowly spiral down into the place I now call “the black hole”. I liken it to a cave- it’s dark and lonely and stinks. I ended up with Shingles twice because I kept trying to hold it together for everyone else. I didn’t let people in on the very dark thoughts in my head. I was afraid of those thoughts. I talk about the nightmares I had in a blog I posted last January, Nightmare: The end. The hole loved when I gave in to the darkness in my head.

This year the holidays are once again proving to be difficult. I hear the hole calling my name. It wants me to curl up on the couch and give in to the darkness; it wants me to bask in the sadness and let it hold me. I could give in to it, and some days I think it would be easier to just let it happen. But then I get this tingle on my neck and I know that’s not what Tony wants me to do. He reminds me that I am stronger than the pull from the hole. He knows that the changes happening here are not easy for me. He shows me that he is here and that he’s helping all he can from the other side. I feel warmth envelop my heart and I let the tears flow. This is what stops the hole from calling me. It doesn’t have the power it used to. Because I am smarter and stronger than it is. I talk about what I’m feeling and I allow myself to be sad. I allow myself to cry and to get mad and to simply let the feelings happen. I am done ignoring them and trying to keep them from happening.

There are lots of changes happening in my world. Most of them revolve around my mom and what she is going through. Dementia is not a gentle or kind disease. It likes to tease and taunt. It will lead you to think that since yesterday was a good day, today will be one too. And then it slams you head first in to the wall. Today is not what yesterday was. It’s the opposite and it sucks. Tomorrow will be different and there’s no telling what may or may not happen. The black hole would love to pull me in at this point but I will not let it. I know that I cannot help my mom if I give in to the hole. Sure I have my days when it’s best to keep things to the bare necessities and I do that. It’s part of the way things are now. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is not a guarantee. Today is where I have to be. I take each day as it comes. I can’t undo what’s happening to my mom. I can’t stop the changes; I can only take it minute by minute and do my best.

This holiday I’ve taken it upon myself to spread the cheer Tony loved so much. I’ve made sure that people with less have a little more. I’ve come through for three friends with the hottest toy of the season. I’ve shipped the wonder of Christmas to people who matter so very much to me. I do this so that the hole can’t win. I do this because it makes my heart happy and it’s exactly what my brother would tell me to do too. If I was home in WI I’d be with Scar and we’d be singing in the stores and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas in Tony’s memory. One year he jumped in a cart at Walmart and I pushed him through the store as he wished everyone a Merry Christmas and sang “I’m gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas!” The people he encountered would at first glare, then a timid smile and finally a laugh. Until he got the laugh I was not to lose sight of the person. We followed one man down four aisles before he gave Tony a high-five and joined him in his very off tune rendition of “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.” One Christmas he took a little collapsible bike off the shelf at Sam’s club and rode it down the aisles. He looked like a complete idiot and I have the picture to remember that day for the rest of my Christmas’.  Those memories keep me smiling on the worst days.

This Christmas will be simple. I will make dinner for the three of us and mom will have a few little things to open. Then we’ll go about doing our own things. I’ll watch movies or read. Mom will listen to her books and Dad will find football to watch. It’s not the big celebration some will have, but I’ll be grateful for one more Christmas with mom. I will not go in to the black hole, because I do not want or need to. I have family and friends (who count more like family than they know) that I can turn to and they are my reason to stay out of the black hole.  

Holidays are not easy after losing a loved one. My family has had enough loss to last a lifetime. Sadly I know we haven’t seen the end of that. Grief is not one size fits all. It’s a process and some people take longer than others. If you are experiencing your first Christmas without a loved one this year, my heart goes out to you. It can easily get over whelming and the sadness can take all the joy out of the season. Don’t hide the sadness: feel it, talk about it, cry about it. Let yourself feel whatever you need to, let yourself grieve. It’s not easy, but each year that passes will make it less painful and more about the wonderful memories you hold dear. And know you are not alone, you are never alone. Reach out to your family, your friends or me. I care and will listen.

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Composer