|
Below, you'll find extensive information on leading
steps of grief articles and products to help you on your way
to success.
All I Want For Christmas Is My Son Back
By Susan Dunn, The EQ Coach, Fri Dec 9th
The holidays are upon us … and how they churn up our emotions.The expectations … the memories … the empty chairs … Somewherethere’s the Norman Rockwell family celebrating, but it wasnever at my house. Was it at yours? A client and I have in common the loss of beautiful young men onthe cusp of adulthood -- my youngest son, who died at 21, 3years ago; her younger brother, who died at 17, much longer agothan that, and yet it was only yesterday. I share with her mypoem saying it is the hardest time to lose a child … “and theworld never knew him at all,” it ends -- and she says she knowswhat I mean. My mother used to tell me when I was young and tragedy occurredto others, never to speak of “luck” or “dessert,” but to say,“There but for the grace of God, go I,” and my firstThanksgiving after my son’s death, I hoped the church-goerswould pray for someone who had lacked the grace of God.
My client says she is going to have everyone share theirgratitude this year and she knows it will be emotional. “Thereare too many empty chairs,” she says. She lost her older brotheras well, and her father. She says my is still “raw,” and she’s right, but hers istoo, around Christmas. We agree that all emotions will bewelcome at the holiday table. We’re working on emotionalintelligence together. I’m The EQ Coach. I tell her that my family is still in the early recovery stages– there are conversations my older son and I haven’t had yetabout the death of his younger brother. She says she knows whatI mean. We talk about the importance of ‘saying their name’ –the names of the ones who are dead. I tell her that mygrand-daughter speaks Chester’s name all the time She asks me atthe dinner table if Chettie liked yogurt when he was 5. Shecatches me on the patio at night and tells me that ChettieChettie Bang Bang is dancing with the stars. “I want you to die when you are very, very old, Nana,” she saysto me. “Yes,” I say, with tears in my eyes. “That’s the way it’ssupposed to be.” “Your grand-daughter knows,” says my client. We share a silentmoment of Empathy. Some years ago I worked for a church. I ‘worked’ the ChristmasEve service. Other services were filled with loudness, but theChristmas Eve service is silent. My job was to meet and greet,to ‘be a presence,’ but the holy silence at the Christmas Eveservice was so palpable, so pregnant with meaning, mostly I juststood there. No one was looking for ‘a presence.’ Every personseemed to have a person sitting on either side of them in memoryonly. Especially the old women. Some of them would hug me with tears in their eyes and say aname … “Paul,” a dead husband … or “Missy”, a lost child …Ghosts from Christmasses past. Those of us who worked the church service held one anothertogether. Meanwhile the children ran around screaming, high onsugar and excitement, dressed in their party clothes, the soundof their laughter and their bright and noisy dress shoes echoingdown the halls. Do you have memories of Christmas like I do? Kids throwing up, the first one in the new home, the canceledflights, the gift that pleased or didn’t, the first Christmas as“the mother-in-law,” the last one with a loved one, the firstone with the new baby, someone drunk, someone newly married,someone away from home for the first time, the first Christmasafter my divorce, the time the table caught fire, the timeeveryone got along, the time everyone fought, the snow, the heatwave, the beautiful red satin skirt, the peace, the chaos, thecurdled crème Anglais, my dad peeling a tangerine, the kissunder the mistletoe, the Hallelujah chorus … I remember the time our kids were with their fathers, hers forthe first time, and I found my friend crying in the churchrestroom and took her out for dinner, saying, “Come on. I’llshow
you how to do this.” The time I listened to a psychologist friend of mine talk of hisexhaustion from “all the people who need to be heard this timeof year”. The worst Christmas Eve? There wasn’t one. They were all good intheir own way. The best Christmas Eve? All of them, and this onecoming up! One in particular though, a lesson in ‘you neverknow.’ The best adult Christmas Eve – my second and last datewith a man named Chris, but it turned out we had exactly thesame idea of how Christmas Eve should be and we accomplished ittogether. Sometimes the butterfly of happiness comes and lightson your shoulder if you don’t go after it. Perhaps your memories are as mixed and full as mine. I have goodand bad memories, and none of them like the Norman RockwellChristmas. The holidays are particularly difficult for those of us withalcohol problems in the family. The memories – or the reality --of someone drunk or passed out, the fighting, the fear, theanger, the unpredictability and the denial. The holidays are particularly hard for those of us far from home. And the holidays are particularly hard for single people, whomust go and “sit at the end of the couch” at other people’shouses. And the holidays are particularly hard for young folks withbabies. The kids are always sick, there’s too much to do, toolittle time, maybe too little money. But the holidays are no less hard for those of us with nofamily, too little to do, too much time, too much money. The EQ Coach reminds herself that ·It’s our expectations thatcause us misery; keep them realistic. Better yet, don’t haveany. ·If you don’t go looking, it could be your year for theChristmas butterfly. ·That exhaustion and stress aren’t goodthis time of year. Take care of yourself! ·All emotions arewelcome; our is the price we pay for the exquisite joy inthe same proportion – that’s the deal, that’s the way it is. Ifwe won’t allow grief, we can’t have joy. ·That some peoplearen’t able to be present at Christmas – some are dead, some arelocked in the past, and some are off in the future, and that’sokay. ·That Optimism is a good option – how we attribute badthings that happen. If the turkey burns – not a small thing ifyou’re the daughter-in-law fixing the meal for the first time --that it means the thermostat didn’t work, not that you can’tcook. ·That Flexbility is wise – people get sick, plans change,gifts don’t arrive, but the celebration can still occur – thereare many ways to skin a cat. ·That Resilience is earned notgiven, and it’s earned by processing hard times and learningfrom them. GROWING through them, not just GOING through them.·That nothing’s perfect and you’ll only exhaust yourself andmake yourself and everyone else miserable if that’s your goal.·That we have Personal Power and choices – it’s your holiday tospend as you wish. Christmas has a knob – turn it on, turn itup, turn it down, turn it off. ·And that if it’s good, it willchange, and if it’s bad, it will change. Ask yourself and thosearound you, “How do you feel about Christmas?” There are lots ofpeople who need to be heard this time of year. My client tells me she’s going to start a new tradition thisyear. She’ll invite everyone over for a Christmas brunch. I tellher I think this is a great idea, and I make a note to send hersome of my cardamom bread. It mails well and has the virtue ofcontaining no candied fruit! I have new traditions, too. I have a little cap for my dog thatsays “Chimney Watch: Santa Patrol” on it. I’ll have it on herwhen the kids walk in the door, and there will be jingle bellson the door knob and a motion-sensored wreath on the door witheyeballs from K-Mart that says “Ho Ho Ho”. I have an ineffable desire to enjoy myself and my life. I hopeyou do too! Chettie would approve. About the author:Susan Dunn is a personal and professional development coachspecializing in emotional intelligence, transitions, midlife,and womens issues. http://www.susandunn.cc andmailto:sdunn@susandunn.cc for FREE ezine.
|
