Here it comes…and every year, earlier than ever…the dreaded arrival of the holiday television commercials.  In my world, retailers hoping to extend the buying season are simply extending the length of time I have to try to ignore the sadness this time of year still stirs up ,even nine years later. 

I’d love to fast forward from October to January.  This way, I would miss the passing of another wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years without my late husband.  Instead, I have had to find workarounds.    

My first Christmas without Gary, it was easy to opt out of celebrating.  Everyone understood.  I thoughtfully and consciously planned that first year.  Being of service to others was the perfect way to refocus away from my loss.  I researched volunteer opportunities and chose to cook and deliver food to the annual Pasadena Christmas for the homeless. 

I got up early to prepare large pans of steaming vegetables and mash pounds of potatoes.  When everything was ready, I loaded it into the back of my car and took to the road.  As I pulled up to the drop station, young volunteers learning the deeper meaning of the holiday greeted me with big smiles and empty arms ready to whisk away the silver foil covered tins. 

My next stop was lunch with a friend.  She had no family in town so we met up for a sushi lunch.  I gratefully embraced the un-turkey experience.  From there, we picked up her large greyhound that had been trained for hospital visits and headed to a local care facility.  Aladdin graciously allowed us to perch a Santa cap on his head and we started out on our mission…to bring some holiday cheer to those facing medical situations that would keep them from being home this year.  Watching the long legged Aladdin negotiate the distance between floor and bed and navigate around IV’s, bedpans and bandaged limbs filled me with awe.

All the time and training my friend had devoted to equipping him to bring joy, or just a smile, helped so many people including me that day to transcend their pain, even if just for a brief moment.  Giving to others, receiving the support of a close friend and doing something completely unlike Christmases past was the perfect tonic for my first holiday without Gary.

For some people, breaking traditions and honoring but not celebrating the day as I did will be the right workaround for them.  Others may want to maintain their familiar way of marking the special days, particularly if they have children. 

There is no right way to do this.  The key is to consciously design and choose whatever it is you decide to do.  Plan it in advance.  Don’t get caught by surprise sitting alone or by going through the usual preparations only to come face to face with a jaw-dropping stab to the heart as you set the table, start to hand out gifts or bow your head for grace because figured you’d just make it through.  Here are some tips to help you as Christmas carols pollute the airwaves: 

1.  Honor yourself.  Only you know what you need to manage the holidays.  Especially in the first couple of years, this is a time to be SELF-ish as in putting yourself first, caring for self.  It’s okay to make your emotional needs a priority. 

2.  Be of service to others.  Volunteering to help those in greater need than you is a great way to not only contribute something positive, it is a great way of caring for yourself.  When we give, we receive so much more in return.  If it feels right to honor your loss and yourself by finding a way to make a difference then make this a new tradition. 

3.  Put a bow on the elephant if you want to.  It’s common knowledge that our society doesn’t have a very comfortable relationship with death and grieving.  People tend to tread as if they were walking on glass shards when they interact with you during holidays, especially if the loss is recent.  Instead of making them guess what you need, speak up and let them know. 

4.  Follow your heart.  Cards with heartfelt, handwritten messages and love letters were important expressions of our feelings between Gary and myself during our courtship and marriage.  I could not imagine not writing that card the first year so the I should not have been surprised to find myself standing at the “Husband” section of the card store eight months after he passed.

As I had in the past, I spent a long time browsing through the card store’s collection of cards for “Husband”.  I finally found the perfect one.  I held my breath as I walked to the counter to pay for it, feeling certain if the cashier knew it was for a dead man, she would look at me as if I’d lost my mind.  No one asked and I escaped from the store without revealing any evidence of a young widow buying a card for her dead husband.

Sitting in the stillness of our dining room, I wrote what would be my last Christmas letter to Gary.  I know I cried as each word slipped from my pen onto the perfect card.  When I was done, I sealed the envelope and addressed it.  “To my loving husband in heaven.”  I added postage before clipping the leash on our dog, Roxy to head to the mailbox down the street. 

I dropped the envelope into the slot and wondered for a brief second what the fate of the letter might be.  Would someone toss it directly into the trash or would some caring postal employee open it along with the seasonal letters addressed to Santa in crayon would take a few minutes to open and read it?  It didn’t matter.   As Roxy waited patiently, I looked up and let my Christmas wish, that Gary was at peace, drift skyward.

Tambre Leighn 2010

Tags: anger, belongings, funerals, money, Depression, grief, guilt, hope, signs and connections