There is No Boxing Up Grief

It is boxing day. I had thought I wanted to shake up this holiday and it happened. Christmas ended with my daughter going to see her fiancé’s family after giving us a gift to go enjoy the night in Canmore. We took the dog. I drove.  It was -28. We found Famous Chinese Food open and shared a dinner for one in our room. We had wine and magazines and appies (previously packed in Calgary to accompany our adventure). All in all, a nice night.  Different. The mountains are always a soothing sight and the fact that Payton wished this for me was a gift.

I received some wonderful gifts this season. Among them was a gift from Alyssa.  This thoughtful young woman dated Zane and remained friends with our family after Zane was killed.  She is the one that filled our home and albums of incredible photos she and Zane had taken on their adventures. Last year, she gave me a framed print of Zane and her sitting on Santa’s knee. This year, she posted a ‘live picture’ of Zane. We could hear his voice and see him smile as he turned in the three seconds of time this photo carried. It was alive. We all enjoyed this gift.

In Canmore, I took my phone out after Jon and I had retired to bed and played this picture.  Over and over. Hearing his voice, seeing his gentle shy smile.  He was enjoying that day.  I began to think of how many days he enjoyed, his adventures with his camera, his friends, the girls that he loved. And my grief came crashing into the room to sit next to me.

I know I am a proponent of taking time out to feel your pain and reflect, meeting your grief face to face. However, on the very cold Christmas night, huddled in the silent room, the hustle of the season faded away, and left me sitting in the middle of a lot of memories of holidays past. My reality became very loud. My holidays are no longer filled with his incredible laugh and tight hugs and no matter what I do to ease the pain, the holidays seem to bring it bubbling to the surface. I know this. We all know this.  It is why the holidays are dreaded.

I remembered what we learned about grief bursts. I took a deep breath and closed my phone. I took another deep breath. I poured myself a tea and pet Tango. I curled up with a pillow and reached out to my grief friends online. “Thinking of you…” And then I talked to Zane. “Would love a visit; I know you are here but send me a sign. I am really missing you right now”.  I took out a magazine (another gift I received) and started reading it, letting my mind fill with health tips and new recipes to try. And I nodded off to sleep.

We know things don’t get easier; we just grow stronger with practice.  And the holidays offer us lots of practice! We shook things up, tried something new.  And it was lovely overall.  What I realized is, although I don’t want, I need distractions at the holidays.  I was reminded that grief travels with you. Santa can’t bring me the miracle I want. The ghosts of Christmas past will show up.  I am not surprised by these understandings, but I am a little saddened. And why I think next year I will choose noise and a movie. Distractions have their place. Christmas is one of them.