When Zane was a toddler, as most parents do, I would bribe him.  “If you are good while we shop for groceries we can go to Bernard Callebaut after,” I would say as we entered the store.  He was always good.  He couldn’t wait for the milk chocolate sucker in the shape of a bear.  Flash forward to Easter and his Aunt sends the Zeller’s chocolate rabbit special.  Zane took one bite off the ear and spit it out.  “What ‘dis?”; he said with disgust.  It was then that I realized what I had done. I had instilled a taste of expensive chocolate in my 2 year old.  There was no going back.

The holidays, Valentine’s included, are rough for grief warriors. It takes energy, sometimes more than we have, to face the empty day, the missing part of our past traditions that can’t be the same now.  Valentine’s is the first of these after the New Year to face.  And when I remember this, it gives me some understanding as to why we are all a bit edgy and short tempered lately.  It’s the anticipation of another upcoming holiday without my boy.

I need to change this. I ‘host’ holidays but without the excitement and interest I used to have. I know Zane would want me to celebrate and enjoy special occasions. He used to kid me about decorating the house and sending cards for every type of holiday.  “Just another reason for my mom to party,” he would explain to his friends. And he was right.  We are, or were, a social house. And maybe we still are…just not as loud, or not as easy as before. 

So, how do we bring back joy to things we used to love doing? I believe we have to incorporate things our loved ones cared for.  What brought your child joy on Valentine’s Day? Was it a trip to the local chocolate shop? Was it decorating cards to hand out to friends? Was it baking cookies to dip in caramel sauce?  What if we could push past the pain, and instead of not doing these things without our child, we continue to do them in honor of our child?

We know that when we share stories and things that our child loved, we feel better in that moment. They will always be a part of our lives so why push the traditions they loved into past tense?  Why not include what they liked in our present celebrations.  This could be good mourning.

I am going to buy some really good chocolate to share.  I’m going to open a bottle of his favorite red and order the heart shaped pizza.  And maybe, with attitude and practice, the joy Zane would want for me will come.