Thinking
of our bereaved mothers on Mother's Day...
A
Mother's Day Story
The
absence of our beloved child during the Holiday season can be
an overwhelming stressor for grieving families. Can I survive
this? Is what I am feeling normal? Should I ignore the holidays
this year? These are all questions that I have asked during the
first several years after the death of my daughter. I'd like
to share some general guidelines that have helped me to handle
the pain of my baby's death during the holidays.
- I accepted and embraced the likelihood of the pain. I
did not discredit that surely it will be a painful time. Of course,
I am grateful for what I still have, and yet I acknowledge that
I will be overwhelmed by what I have lost. By preparing myself
this way, I do not set up unattainable expectations of myself,
my emotions and my behavior. At the same time, I recognize that
I will likely have pleasant and enjoyable moments and I should
not feel guilty about that.
- I prepared myself for the potential insensitivity of others. Well
meaning loved ones that do not want to see us in pain may try
to hurry you through your grief. Some may insist on continually "cheering
you up." Others may give you advice on what you should and
shouldn't do or even how you should and shouldn't feel. I found
it best to ignore all the well-meaning words of advice and
claim my own feelings. No one else can understand how deep
this pain really is, unless they are bereaved parents. Some
of the various emotions I find myself dealing with every year
during the holidays (and every other day!) are:
- Sadness- The loss is overwhelming and I found myself
reflecting on the way things should have been if
my daughter were here.
- Depression- Many days, particularly the week before
a critical holiday, I felt listless, isolated and desperate.
- Anxiety- I found myself uncertain of what my reactions
would be and my frequent outbursts of emotions (even
in the grocery store) frightened and surprised me.
- Anger- I was mad at everyone and everything! I did
not have my baby, but my neighbor or a family member
did. It is unjust! I found myself short on my supply
of patience. It didn't take much to provoke me during
these periods.
- Guilt-
They "would've, should've, could've" thoughts
are agonizing. Even when I knew there was nothing I
could have done to prevent my baby's death, the guilt
still hung over me as a black cloud. No amount of
reason or logic can cleanse me of the sense of guilt,
so I resort to forgiveness of myself, in the assurance
that I would have given my life for the life of my
child in a moment.
- Apathy- There are times, years after her death, that
I have almost no feelings at all. I don't care about
anything, often similar to the feeling several weeks
after her death. Numbness, confusion and disorientation
are all ingredients of apathy.
Allowing yourself permission to claim your own feelings will lead to healing,
reconciliation and the rediscovery of yourself. Keep in mind that feelings
aren't right or wrong...they just are.
- I took care of myself and the memory of my deceased child. I
felt so out of control at times. But there were ways I knew I
could regain control of my life and memorialize the life of my
child. I realized that it would be best not to make drastic changes
early in my grief. Generally, most of the traditions and rituals
our family had before our daughter died, stayed with us. But
this was a great opportunity for me to turn my pain into something
positive. New rituals became part of our tradition, in memory
of our precious child. Here are some options for families wanting
to include their child in continuing holiday celebrations:
- Celebrate the memory of your child by decorating his or her
grave. We purchased a small Christmas tree and our other children
helped to decorate it. We purchased balloons and stuffed toys
and even wrote notes, cards and pictures to leave at the cemetery.
It is an emotional purging which can help the family to heal,
remember and love together.
- Sign up at a local mall to partake in a Christmas Angel Program.
We like to find a girl who is the same age that our baby should
have been that year. We take the time to pick the toy that is
requested and an extra one that we think our child would have
enjoyed.
- Donate the amount of money you would have spent on Christmas
for your child to your favorite nonprofit organization, in memory
of your baby.
- Remember your child in Christmas cards, if you want. Every
year since our daughter's death, we send out Christmas cards
memorializing her. I refuse to let people forget her! Just as
an example, one of our cards said, "We take this time to
remember our precious daughter, Cheyenne, and cherish the memories
she has left us. Take this time to cherish the moments you
have with those you love."
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Since
you're gone this holiday,
I wonder what I'll give to you.
How I'll wrap a warm embrace,
a warmer smile you cannot see;
How to mark it so you'll know
that yours is the one with the emerald bow,
with blue and sterling wrap reflecting
twinkling lights that dance in circles
'round a fragrant, freshcut tree.
Since
you've gone I often walk
the starlit paths we used to stroll
and there,
among the ferns and Cedar,
heavy with first winter snow,
I look into December nights
and hope for your familiar shadow
in the moonlight's silver glow.
Since
you've gone
I oft' remember
what you whispered in my ear.
Through the tears, I've learned to see
those sunwarmed days,
just you and me,
remembering all I loved the best;
Remembering,
just the way you asked,
for I am learning, with your help,
to find the sun above the rain,
the 'bow of colors
beyond the pain.
Since
you're gone this festive season,
You will find my present here
in Puget-red Olympic sunsets,
golden dawns on frosted air,
high above the Cascade range
you'll find it framed in distant blue-
Since you're gone this holiday,
this poem will be my gift to you.
© 1999 by Aaron Espy
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