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Grief and the Holidays....
The only way out of the desert is through it....... African Aphorism
We are in the midst of the holiday season; a season that for many people, brings much joy but also some sadness. The sadness is related, in part, to the nostalgia that is awakened in the celebratory atmosphere of holidays. This certainly makes sense when we remember that nostalgia is that very human characteristic of wistful longing or yearning for a prior time in our lives. Think about how often people say they will be "going home" for the holidays, even though "home" is not where they have lived for many years. And yes, even though, "home" was not always the happiest of times: we may be nostalgic not only for what was-but for what we imagine might have been in that prior time. Nostalgia is always connected to remembering and so, for many, it is certainly one reason that there is a disquieting sense of "being blue" in celebrating the holiday season.
For those in grief, the holiday season, in addition to the sense of nostalgia that is common to so many, brings a prolonged period when you are inundated with the sights, sounds and wonderful smells of cooking, baking and evergreens...the memories of holidays past come flooding in and profoundly intensify the uniqueness of your recent loss.
When someone dies, it hurts in a very deep and profound way. You think you will never "get better"-never "get over it". And you are right! This is the language of sickness: you "get better" after a bout with the flu or you "get over" your gall bladder surgery. But grief is not a sickness to be cured nor is it a problem to be "fixed"-and certainly not in a prescribed time or way. I describe grief as the very essence of the human condition in whose wake you learn to live. So, you do not "get over" it, but you do get through it. Heed the wisdom of that old African aphorism: "the only way out of the desert is through it". And so it is with your grief-the only way out of the desert of your grief is through it, as you slowly learn to live all the changes taking place in your life because of the death of this one person. There are no stages, no shortcuts, no fast track, no formula, no quick fix, no medicine, and no, it is not easy! But there is a process that must be lived, a process that unfolds in your time and in your way. Since you cannot suspend the process for the holiday, the question is-how will you get through it? That how (?) begins with six crucial words:
...with a great deal of difficulty... |
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It is important to remind yourself that the holiday will be especially difficult-acknowledging this reality will soften the sense of overwhelming urgency to "get it right". Our individual lives unfold in unique ways, always in relationship with people, animals, and things with which we are connected. As the rhythms of life play out, circumstances surrounding emerging events and situations help us to gain insight, shift perspective and to distinguish between "being in control" and "taking charge" within the unfolding process. Taking charge of your grieving, especially during the holidays, begins with understanding the complex nature of the "difficulty" of being-in-grief during this prolonged period of celebrating. Because of this complexity, the "how" I share with you is more a how-to-be with it than a how-to-do it. This does not negate the many thoughtful and potentially helpful suggestions available-but they are just that: suggestions from which you choose.
Understanding the Difficulty of Grief and the Holidays
These are some of the aspects that contribute to the intensified pain of your grief during the holiday season:
.the prolonged time and energy expended in preparation for this celebration,
.the nostalgia that usually surrounds holidays,
.relational connections, irrespective of whether pleasant or troubled, that imply expectations of how you "should do" the holiday,
.this death calls you to other losses experienced in time past,
.the inherent sense of the passing of time, the transience of all life, and the acute awareness of personal mortality,
.the seasonal shift into fall and winter with its onset of shorter days and less direct sunlight,
.the restlessness of some of our animal friends as they also sense the shift in environmental characteristics,
.the implicit message of loss, dying and death associated with the denuded trees and disappearance of the colorful flowers of summer and fall.
These are some aspects that contribute to intensifying your grief during this season of celebrating and remembering. But let me pause for a moment here and focus on the lesson to be learned from the "bleak, gray" of winter. In the unfolding of the seasons, spring and summer give way to the beauty of autumn and fall, and yet, we know that the richness of these colors signify the dying of those leaves and blossoms. We watch the trees as those last few leaves stubbornly hang on, but eventually, they let go and fall to the ground. The denuded trees surrender to the harsh wind, the snow and the ice...some people see this cycle of nature as bleak and depressing-and, yet, in this very bleakness is a promise: nature has "gone underground" to slowly nurture its roots as it patiently awaits the promise of spring. Grief is the season of your waiting-your time of focusing inward-your time to return to nurturing your core-your time to slowly learn to relinquish your grief as you embrace, albeit reluctantly, the important work-of-grief. And like nature, you make ready to spring forth through your grief and-patiently-live the promise of "letting go". With this understanding of some of what contributes to the difficulty of grief and the holidays, and a different perspective of nature's "harshness", let's explore how to get through this season of remembering and celebrating. |
The Sadness of Remembering and the Joy of Celebrating
It is in connecting the seemingly contradictory sadness of remembering with the joy of celebrating, that we are reminded that joy and sorrow are not separate: embedded in the joy is the sadness and in the sadness resides the joy. In my recently published book, I quote the poet Kahlil Gibran, who says it this way:
"joy and sorrow are inseparable-together they come,
when one sits alone with you, the other is asleep upon your bed"
He reminds us that we celebrate the joy-of-life as we connect with the sadness of remembering. You are sad now as you remember what was that will be no more...as you remember that you will make no more new memories with those who have died...that now, you have only those memories already made. For now, those memories create the sorrow that "sits alone with you", but know, that in the very sorrow of these memories, is the joy that "is asleep upon your bed". These memories, now so painful will-in time-awaken that joy, the joy that will come as the rhythm of your life changes and you make new memories and new associations.
So, at this time of gift giving, I ask you to give yourself four important gifts to smooth your way through the desert of your grief during this holiday season-and beyond. |
The First Gift is Faith...that you will get through it. You know that faith has to do with believing something for which there is no proof-but there is much evidence. The evidence I offer you comes from knowing that since the beginning of recorded human history, people have experienced the pain of loss and have come through their grief. We see this evidence in:
.the ancient Summerian epic of Gilgamesh, one of the earliest stories of grief-it tells the story of his anguish and confusion, and we follow his lonely wandering, as he seeks to understand the death of his friend....and we see, that finally, over time and in companionship, he comes through his grief to become a more gentle, sensitive, and wiser ruler of his people.
.we hear the evidence of the people as they cry to God in the plaintive Psalms of Lament...and we move out of the suffering of grief to the comfort of God's grace.
.we follow Alfred Lord Tennyson in the hundred verses of his profoundly moving poem-In Memoriam-as he struggles to get through his grief to finally find solace and peace.
These three examples, and many more, show us-through the power of recorded human history-that if you will embrace the gift of faith, you will also get through your grief.
The Second Gift is Trust....that you, like Gilgamesh and the petitioners in the Psalms of Lament, have the inner resources and the companionship that you need to get through your grief. Trust your inner healer-the vital energy-that will guide you as you disconnect from the familiar rhythms of your life with the one who died and at the same time, connect with the unfamiliar rhythms struggling to be born.
The Third Gift is Courage....to actively engage the work you must do to get through your grief story. You hope for a better tomorrow, and while hope is crucial, it is not enough. The difficult work-of-grief must be actively engaged: "being strong" is a myth...feel what you feel and when the tears come, let them flow! (The elements of the work-of-grief are fully described in chapter six of my book...disconnecting/connecting is one of those elements.)
The Fourth Gift is Patience, which is always in short supply, but seems increasingly so today. Modern society has taught us to expect a "quick fix" for every problem and a pill for every ill, but I have said that grief is neither a problem to be solved nor an illness to be cured: it is a human experience that you must live through so, nurture this precious gift of patience as you slowly learn that your sadness exists side by side with your joy-and slowly learn to relinquish what is over.
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As you come closer to the holiday and the Holy Day, expect to be sad ...and stretch to reach for moments of joy. Now, wrapped in the strength of these four gifts, prepare for the festivities. As I indicated earlier, there are many helpful suggestions in journals, books, newspapers, on TV and radio: choose what fits for you. For example, many suggest: do not let others set your agenda, take time for you, get rest and eat properly, get some exercise, laugh, make a schedule, be with friends, spend some time alone, do your crying....and so many more. All are helpful; choose what feels right for you. In the many years of my work with people in grief, I emphasize two things:
One: Stay connected with God (or the transcendent power of your belief) even though that connection is through anger, disappointment or doubt. Asking "why" is a way of expressing the pain of your grief as well as a way of staying connected-you need that connection to ground the meaning and purpose in your life as you embrace the on-going changes in the shifting rhythms of your life. Take comfort in knowing that most people return to the beliefs that have always sustained them.
Two: Plan together with family. Sometimes, grief wraps you in a cocoon of pain that unintentionally separates you from others, even as you yearn for support and companionship. Remember that grief is different for each member of the family, so talking together about how to celebrate the holiday lessens the tension for all; some families keep the same ritual, some make minor changes and some change the entire pattern. What is most important is that everyone is included in the planning: holidays intensify the recent loss, send us back to earlier losses and sometimes, you find that early family tensions may resurface...so, include everyone as you plan your holiday ritual.
To those who are alone, be at peace with your aloneness: you are enough for you-do not make your aloneness into isolation. Find ways to be among people within the limits of your tolerance. Some people have shared with me their way of being with people even though they are alone. For example, spend time with friends or colleagues, attend community or church activities, offer services in a community shelter, visit nursing homes or other volunteer activities. Most important, do not let your aloneness become isolation.
And finally, one strong suggestion: to do "nothing" is generally a mistake. I know that you may well feel that way and it is fine to let that feeling surface...and then, re-think it. Many people have told me that they followed their choice "to do nothing" and almost all said it was a "terrible mistake". You need the symbols of living to remind you that you are alive and that you have that right, yes, even in the midst of your sadness. So, a small tree, a light in the window, a wreath on your door...yes, even though you are alone.
Often, there is a reluctance to mention the person who died in the mistaken belief that it will cause pain, but the opposite is probably true...the pain is there so avoiding the name of the person leads to that uncomfortable sense of "walking on eggshells". At dinner, there are many ways to mention the person: the empty chair, the empty place setting, a prominently displayed picture and one I suggest that many people found "breaks the ice": make a toast at the beginning of dinner...something simple and mention the name of the person who died; for example, "Maggie celebrates at a different table tonight...I miss her, but I am grateful for all of you." Then, share a brief anecdote about Maggie and you will find that, amid tears and laughter, everyone joins in remembering stories about Maggie and you "awaken the joy that sleeps beside you".
These have been some thoughts and suggestions about the always difficult process of getting through grief and especially how that difficulty is magnified during the holiday season. The most significant gifts you give this holiday are the four I ask you to give yourself.
Happy Holidays and a very Blessed Christmas to all.
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A. Barbara Coyne, Ph.D., MSN
The Dwelling Place:Center for Health |
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