Merry Everything & Happy Always

A couple of days after Christmas I stumbled across a jpeg that I wish I had found before Christmas. I really struggled with Christmas this year - especially in the "putting seasons greetings out there" department!

My own version - not too Christmasy.

Why did I struggle? I can tell you that, aside from missing family, it wasn't so much a personal struggle. 

It was a struggle for the friends that have lost someone during this last year & there seemed to be so many of them. From the one whose son left this world on Christmas day last year - to the one whose son left in April, the dear friend whose Mum died, an ocean away, a few days before Christmas, the one who buried her husband 2 days before Christmas &  the one whose husband passed on Christmas Eve. Then there is the one who is being nursed through the final stages of pancreatic cancer, by her daughter, along with the lovely lady I have just met that has had to admit her Mum to a dementia facility.

Some of these people I have met & consider friends, others I have known for years online - exchanged cards, beads & emails with & I consider them friends too.

The thing is it's academic as to whether I know them in reality  - or not. I don't need to have sat down with them in person to know that the first Christmas without someone who once was a part of you & your life is just bloody awful - or that a death anywhere near Christmas is always going to become an inextricable part of the whole Christmas thing from that day on.

I don't need to have sat down with them to know that often those trite comments, although well intentioned, sometimes just don't help - or seeing another make a comparison to a loss they have suffered is sometimes a bit meaningless because it isn't their loss. Trying to find the right thing to say, while acknowledging that their grief is immense & overwhelming, yet completely unique to them & not comparable to anyone else's grief, is difficult.

Amidst all the celebrity deaths this Christmas Season I felt most for the people I know. While a celebrity will impact our life to some degree & we will mourn their loss, it doesn't actually change our life the way losing a loved one does.

There is not that sudden shift in our psyche that tells us in no uncertain terms that life, as we knew it up until that moment, has just changed never to be life as we knew it again.

I do know that it gets better - no, that is not the right word. I do know that it gets less intense as time wears on - but I also know that in those first few months it sure as hell doesn't feel like it is going to.

I also know that the last thing you feel is as if Christmas is Merry - or even worth celebrating, & that the New Year that is unavoidably rushing towards you is scary. On the one hand it can't be as bad as the current one because the worst thing imaginable has already happened -  on the other hand it can't possibly be happy because you have lost a part of yourself.

One day, in the future Christmas won't seem quite as bleak for these friends as it does now. The happiness will start to sneak back in - but will always be tinged with a little sadness, & a longing for what once was, at this time of year. 

With that in mind, & rather than being too seasonally specific, I thought that the greeting

"Merry Everything and Happy Always" was rather fitting for the long term, on multiple levels.

Minutes, Hours, Days & Months.

Yesterday marked 6 Months since my gorgeous Mum left us. I chose to escape...distract myself from that huge tightness in my heart that, at times, threatens to overwhelm me. Especially those days that seem to mark significant passages of time.

Those days that I feel I've forgotten what she sounded like, how she smelled, or the feel of her lips on my cheek or arms around me as we hugged & kissed in greeting or departure.

Yet I still remember what her tiny, wasted frame felt like in my arms on in those final two days all too vividly, along with the final kiss I was ever able to give her  - & those days I would like to be able to forget. They are not the memories that I want to carry around with me.

Isn't it strange though, how over time one can think they are losing the essence of a person so loved, that the person has been gone longer than they were here - yet at the same time it seems like only yesterday that person left. I struggle with that & I know my children, nieces & nephew do too. Essentially we fear we will forget - but we wont.

In our eyes Mum/Nana was a winner &, most definitely, a "keeper".  We simply weren't ready to let her go yet - but are we ever? Her capacity for love knew no bounds - how a heart that big survived in a frame that small is beyond me. Her often naughty sense of humour was almost as large as that heart of hers. Her laugh, when let loose, was an absolute joy to hear - & that is almost what I miss the most.

Our Winner

So for myself, my children, my nieces, my nephew....& all those, close to Mum, that cared I think Marcel Proust, in his letter to George de Lauris - whose Mother had just died, sums it up very well:

Now there is one thing I can tell you; you will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. When you still had your Mother you often thought of the days when you would have her no longer. Now you will often think of days past when you had her. When you are used to this horrible thing that they will forever be cast into the past, then you will feel her gently revive, returning to take her place, her entire place, beside you. At the present time, this is not yet possible. Let yourself be inert, wait 'til the incomprehensible power that has broken you restores you a little, I say a little, for henceforth you will always keep something broken about you. Tell yourself this, too, for it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more & more.