Learning As I Go

The holidays are approaching, and, in some ways, I dread their coming. This time of year is so hard for bereaved people. There is such a contrast of emotions. Life is very different, and, at times, so difficult for me since my son’s death. This will be my third holiday season without him. You would think I would have this dialed in by now, but I don’t. Grief is like that... it is unpredictable and mercurial.

As a family, we have much to be thankful for this year. A healthy baby boy has been added to our family. Our daughter, Madison, continues to excel in medical school and my husband has retired after 40 years of practicing law. Yes, we are blessed, but we also have much to grieve... Jordan is gone, and we are all the worse for our tragic loss. And while I am open to making new memories and embracing my many blessings during this special time of year, I am also keenly aware of the empty chair at our holiday gatherings. My heart aches and my sorrow continues to be immense.

For me, Jordan’s absence is magnified when we gather as a family… he is missing. We struggled the past two seasons to find a way to celebrate the holidays in the midst of our great loss. I was adamant that we would avoid long-standing family traditions. I just couldn’t bear to do the familiar things without Jordan, so we traveled out-of-state that first Thanksgiving. We had lasagna for Christmas dinner and avoided favorite family recipes. As strange as it sounds, I thought by changing our traditions, I was honoring my son. I realize now that whether we eat lasagna, Chinese food or Jordan’s favorite – standing rib roast with mashed potatoes and gravy – we have suffered a profound loss and there will always be something missing. By avoiding our traditions, I was trying to hide from my grief. That doesn’t work.

I don’t know what we will do this year for the holidays. I do know we will gather as a family and we will cherish all that is ours, including the precious memory of the one we love and miss so much. Someday I hope to find a way to celebrate that feels “okay.” Maybe that will always elude me, but I am hoping my two worlds will someday coexist peacefully during this time of year without anxiety and such deep sorrow. In the meantime, I will be brave and flexible because that’s the best I can do. I still don’t know how to navigate this journey… I am learning as I go.