Few of us are ready to assume the position and the responsibility that comes with our new role in the family when a parent dies, no matter what our age. My mother died of ovarian cancer, when I was a young mother. I assumed Mom’s holiday rituals and family duties because I thought she would have expected that of me. I really didn’t want to be in charge (the men in my family would protest but it‘s true). If life could have been normal again with Mom at the wheel driving us into that celebration frenzy that only she could plan, I would have gladly given up job.
Thankfully, Dad began to create a life without her, creating new traditions but still honoring our history. Going to “Pop’s” house was a treat for all of us. Dad, ever humble and generous, never gave up his place as head of the family – he just humored me about my illusion of being in charge. I realized that grieving the loss of my mother had sidetracked him and it was simply my turn as the oldest to step up. I did it well until that first Christmas after our five-year-old son, Kevin’s death. All the rules had changed.
I was eight months pregnant, struggling with the responsibility of birthing a new life when all I wanted was my brown-eyed little boy. How could we give our eight-year-old daughter, Amber, the Christmas she deserved when the intense grieving in our house threatened our good sense and well-being?
I just couldn’t do Christmas. Our solution was to give Amber the Disneyland trip we had been planning before Kevin died. As soon as we passed through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, I knew we made a mistake. What were we thinking? The happiest place on earth became a prison of music, lights, and decorations holding my heart hostage. Sadly, only a few photographs prompt my recollection of that miserable trip. The truth is, every photo screamed the absence of our Kevin. Even now, it is still painful to see.
It wouldn’t matter where we were…we were not conscious so how could we be present? I promised myself that I would never spend another holiday wandering around an amusement park looking for the magic of Christmas. The holidays would be different no matter what we did or how far we traveled. I returned home determined to be more conscious about the next one. Honoring our history with Kevin would create a space for the old and the new traditions to co-exist. Out of despair came a vow to be conscious of my own needs.
It took some practice (and many tears) but I realized that becoming aware of my triggers was the key to getting through the holidays. Each “trigger” activated a memory and was actually a call for me to change a perception I had about the way I grieved at that moment. Once I recognized the “trigger of the moment,” I could choose how to respond or react – sing the Christmas song or turn off the radio; bake our favorite cookies or buy them; battle the shopping crowds or shop online – all my choice, without apology. The most important thing was to acknowledge each trigger as a gift of understanding and acceptance about my deepest loss. It’s been 20 years of practice, and being present to my grief and my healing is an empowering gift that keeps on giving.
© 2011 Carla Bowey
There are no mistakes in grief. Your decision made sense at the time. Be kind to yourself and know your experience may not be how your family experienced that “mistake.” Two years after my son was killed, I am realizing I don’t want to celebrate anything but feel obligated. My mother is terminally ill and my dad is feeling his age. Will this be their last? Will this be the last holiday for any of us? What do these holidays mean?
Hey Folks it looks like only half of my article was uploaded to the site! It sounds a little disconnected because it’s not all there to read! I’ve notified Neil so hopefully it will be corrected asap
Thanks!
Carla
Thanks Neil for making the corrections!
This is a wonderful article Carla.
Thank you for writing this, Carla. I love hearing your ‘voice’. You have given me much on this painful journey, with your book and amazing workshops. My heart is grateful to you!
Carla, once again I am in awe of your memories and perceptions! I wish I could remember like you do and maybe sometimes you wish you could forget like me. I wander through life with so much of my past forgotten but one thing I have never forgotten is when Kevin died.
You were being a parent taking Amber to Disneyland you wanted her to have some fun and hopefully she did. I am like many others, I go through life in my own little bubble. I was blind to your struggles trying to get through the day without Kevin by your side. I was dealing with the loss of my marriage and wasn’t awake enough to be much help to you, I am sorry.
It is hard to believe that it has been so many years since Kevin has died, but he is not forgotten by any of us. He is and always will be remembered by me!
What a wonderful article. About 25 years ago I did something similar. I could not stands having Christmas without my 16 y/o brown-eyed son. My daughter and I flew to upstate NY to spend Christmas and the New Year with my parents and siblings.
It was a mistake. I was in a fog and as you said I “was not conscious so how could I be present”. Not only that, I worried about my husband the entire time. He had stayed home with his father.
I remember sobbing my way into the new year. How could I possibly live a year without my son.
Right on. We have to know what will ‘set us off’ and counter act it.
Loved this.
Thanks Carla, I too love hearing your ‘voice’…. You teach me so much with this journey we are on. You put into words what I try and do to continue forward with the people that are here, while honoring those that have passed too soon!!!!!!
Nearly nine months in counting since i lost my beloved son. We escaped to Florida for a quiet holiday, but returning home was very difficult.
He remains ever present on my mind, but I still cannot fully believe that he is gone. Your story helps inspire me with hope for the year ahead. Thank you, Carla.