child loss, bereavement, tcf canada, tcf, compassionate friends, grief, grieving

Handling The Holidays Your Way

I’m tired. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of always trying to find the right thing to do, the right thing to say, the right way to feel. I’m tired of dreading every waking moment and of fearing every quiet space. I’m tired of avoiding places, people and parts of every day. I am tired of looking at the calendar and wondering when is IT going to end.

I’m tired of trying to be cheerful when I’m not and I’m tired of being sad all the time. I hear winter’s music and see its sights and sounds and find myself awash in icy loneliness instead of holiday warmth. I see the decorations and watch others as they scurry about, buying gifts for those they love. But it leaves me empty and hollow inside and I’m tired of that, too. I smell the cinnamon and spice and read holiday recipes and think only of the empty place at the table, forgetting those who are still here. I seem to be caught “in between” someplace and I’m too tired to wrestle my way out.

The holidays are supposed to be joyous and the cards that sit on my table only add to my gloom. I’m too tired to turn on the lights and it’s dark at 4:30. That’s OK with me except everyone else in my life thinks I should not be sitting in the dark.

So, it’s holiday time and I’m supposed to be getting ready. Everyone else is busy planning menus and parties and addressing cards. The only thing I’m planning is my escape into the closet, where no one can find me and try to cheer me up. I’m tired of being cheered and I’m tired of trying to explain to everyone that I don’t want to be happy. This season of dark and cold suits me JUST FINE and I WANT TO WALLOW in my despair. I’m too tired to tell them LEAVE ME ALONE and LET ME GRIEVE.

It is as if everyone NEEDS ME TO BE OK and right now, especially in this holiday season, I am not quite as OK as everyone wants me to be and not nearly as OK as I would like to be. I am tired of hurting, of grieving, of wondering if the sights and sounds of the holiday season will ever reach me again. I’m tired and I think I need a nap. I’ll sleep until IT’S over and I’ll awaken only when springtime can bloom again.

CAN ANYONE STOP THE HOLIDAYS, PLEASE? I need a nap.
Ah, a nap ... what a delicious thing a nap used to be! But, even naps can turn into nightmares when a grieving mind tries to rest. We try to escape into sleep to avoid the trials of learning to live with the empty space at the table and in our heart. And soon, we discover, that even sleep can become an enemy of sorts. When the body rests, the mind begins its work. Memories seem to flood into our consciousness and there seems no place for a grieving soul to hide.

And besides, naps were outlawed after kindergarten. Only little kids are allowed to nap. We’re grown up, responsible people, with too much to do and too little time to do it in. And I’m tired of being grown up, responsible and of not getting to nap.

I’m dreading the approaching holiday season and I’m beginning to think that napping in the closet might not be a bad idea. No one would think to look for me in there! There are closets we haven’t opened in years and there are great places to hide, back there behind the coats that no one wears and in between the snow boots and tennis rackets that no one uses any more. I’m tired, but I think I can make it to the closet. I can hide there until spring or until I get hungry and even then, I can probably find something to snack on in the closet. I’m sure someone has left a half eaten candy bar in a pocket or a stray stick of gum must be lurking inside a mitten.

When I’m hiding in the closet, I won’t have to think about the holidays and I won’t have to wear a silly mask that says “I’M FINE.” The coats don’t care if I’m having a bad day and so far, the boots have remained remarkably unharmed by my moods. I can pound on the floor or scream into the sweaters and no one will hear me or worry about me. I can hide under the umbrella or dress up in fancy clothes, trying to recapture the happier times in my life. I can hide here in the closet and let time pass, in hopes of the pain passing too. And, if anyone should happen to open the closet and find me, I can always say I am cleaning and they will know I have returned to normal and will let me alone. A clean closet is a sign of a functioning person, not given to moments of sheer grief or terror or craziness. I can line up the boots and bring order to my world, as long as my world is only as small as this closet. I can nap here, too. And when I can’t stand the light anymore, I can always retreat to my closet. I can sit here anytime I want to, napping or just thinking and remembering. I can remember the little boy who used to wear these boots and the growing up young girl who wanted to trade mittens for gloves. I can feel the warmth of my spouse’s being as I caress the well worn sleeve of his coat and I can almost smell HER perfume as I sit here, among the remnants of my memories, the fabrics of my life.

Besides, it’s warm here in the closet and I’m feeling a little less frantic now. So what if everyone else thinks it’s STRANGE for me to be spending so much time cleaning closets! They don’t know what secrets and comfort hang here, waiting for my escape. It’s not so crazy to want to spend some time alone, comforted by the very things that speak of my loved one. There are memories here and in my own time and in my own way, I am finding a path through this darkness called grief.

I can touch the sleeve and remember. I can weep and be comforted by the scarf and I can nap, here... just as a little one did so long ago. Cats curl up in soft piles of clothing and we think it sweet. So, why can’t I seek comfort from these holidays, hidden away in the closet?

I won’t spend FOREVER in here, although everyone else might think so! I just want a place to hide for a little while ... long enough to face a fear, find a memory and take a nap.

I’m tired and maybe claiming my fatigue and embracing it is the way to healing. Maybe acknowledging my fears and my grief is a better way than wearing a plastic smile and pretending to be OK. I AM OK, just hurt and sad and GRIEVING ... a natural, normal, necessary but sometimes nasty response to change, loss and death. There is nothing wrong with grieving and your time frames are yours ... NO ONE CAN DICTATE your grief or the time it takes to experience it.

Give yourself the gift of individuality this holiday season. Claim YOUR grief, become AWARE of it, ACKNOWLEDGE it, and create an ACTION plan to cope with it. If hiding in the closet sounds good to you, DO IT. Or at least TRY IT. You will never know what will work unless you try it.

Be cautious in what you try, however. Some things will NEVER work while others will only postpone or delay your grief. Use your common sense. You did NOT lose that, although it may seem that way (at least to others!). YOU KNOW what you need, so give yourself PERMISSION TO GRIEVE YOUR WAY this holiday season. Do whatever works for YOU. Just be careful of drugs, alcohol and high places. None of those work effectively and can lead to additional problems that you don’t need right now (or ever!). Be tired. Be hurt. Be grieving. Your tears are a symbol of the love you shared. Let them flow in what ever way you need as you find your way through the pain and into the light of memories and love. Grief is an individual journey. No one can walk it for us. Each footprint must be our own.

Find a closet. Take a nap. Dream the dreams you had and find the ones still waiting for you. The holidays are rough, but not impossible as long as we give ourselves permission to BE ... we can’t make everyone happy and we probably can’t even manage that for ourselves (just yet). But we can cope and we already are ... even when we’re tired. Good luck.

Have a good nap. See you in the spring!

© Darcie D. Sims