Holidays are a time to celebrate, but they are also a difficult time for many. Instead of rejoicing, some are lamenting loved ones who have passed and reflecting on the traditions that passed with them.
This Christmas, it is my prayer that even those who have suffered great loss will give themselves permission to enjoy the holiday. Easier said than done, I know. But I believe it can be done -- and should be done. I remember the first holiday after my father unexpectedly passed away when he was only 46 years old. It just wasn't the same. The seat he occupied at one head of the dining room table so he could sneak his eyes around the corner and catch a tiny bit of the game was void of his presence. My dad was never one for many words; just give him a newspaper (which he could read all day long -- the same newspaper!), a sporting event on television and something to munch on every once in a while, and he was content. Nonetheless, his passing was severely felt. So I understand.
I believe, though, that anyone going through anything has to make a decision not to let the loss kill the spirit. It's easy to do. In fact, not doing so requires intentionality -- but it's worth it.
Let me delicately share this advice. I say "delicately" because I don't want to offend people by coming off as if I'm trivializing their loss. I am not. I'm offering food for thought. One thing I've always wanted to say to people who observe the "anniversaries" of deaths or remember birthdays of loved ones who have passed is, "Do not make an idol of days." What do I mean? I mean I've seen people who have otherwise moved on -- to the extent that we actually "move on" after someone has left a hole in our lives -- become distraught and shut down during the anniversary of the death or the date of birth. This is something I choose not to do -- and yes, I say "choose" because, again, intentionality is key. I look at it is this way: The person I love who is no longer with me on that special day was no longer with me the day before, and, sadly, will not be with me the day after. The loss is real no matter the day. The loss is no more a loss because of what the calendar reads, so if I have found strength to smile or work, to persevere last month or the week before or yesterday, I can do the same on that anniversary or that birthday or that Christmas. Why should I be more distraught today?
You have to give yourself permission to celebrate. Sometimes, we feel guilty if we celebrate, like we owe that person our sorrow. But that's not so. Think about it: That loved one would want you to be happy, to spend time with others, to celebrate. The last thing he or she would desire is that you allowed a day or a season to paralyze or depress you. Lamentation is not loyalty. You're not being unfaithful by rejecting despondency any more than you're being loyal by letting the calendar rule your spirit.
But how? How do you -- how do we -- conquer the emotions that are real and intentional in their pursuit of our joy? We have to be that much more intentional. Accept the invitation to the Christmas gathering. Put the tree up that you've always put up. Hey, put one up if you never put one up. Refuse to isolate, even though you may be inclined to. Refuse to pay tribute to that calendar. We have all experienced not wanting to accept an invitation and then being glad we did, glad we joined in the fun we were inclined not to but pushed ourselves to participate in anyway. Is it possible we may not have a good time and feel even more alone in the midst of the crowd? There's always a possibility, but let's give ourselves permission to give it a try. Our loved one would want that, and we probably need it. And this is equally important: If you aren't going through anything painful, if you have family near and plenty of cheer, reach out to someone who is alone or hurting or feeling a bit lost. None of us should walk alone.
This Christmas, we can have merry and bright moments if we allow ourselves to, and I pray we all do.
Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member.
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