HOW GRIEF STOLE CHRISTMAS - ALMOST!

All during the year we, as a nation, are bombarded with bad news.  People doing harm to one another.  Countries at war.  A Congress that can't seem to find common ground and serve the people as they were elected to do.  Selfishness and self serving seemed to abound.  The darkness in the world was dragging me down even further into my own dark depression.

Then, almost miraculously, between Thanksgiving and the New Year the media changes direction.  We begin to hear more and more news stories about the love and generosity of the human heart.  This year I was deeply touched by the kindness of strangers.  It began with a police officer purchasing a pair of shoes for a homeless man and moved forward from there.  Tragedy brought us together not only as a nation but as a world-wide family.  The senseless deaths at an elementary school in Connecticut touched the hearts and collective conscience of the world.

As fall ended and winter approached, I found myself in a struggle for existence.  I was ready to give up.  It was not that I really wanted to end my life; it was just too hard to go on living.  I was in a depression so deep that I could find no way to pull myself out of it.  I was buried alive beneath its weight.  It physically hurt to put one foot in front of the other.  I made a plan and knew just what I would do when the time came.  And that time seemed at hand.

I knew I was in trouble and at a doctor's appointment I ask my doctor for the name of a counselor.  He ask what was happening in my life.  I was honest (even though every nerve and brain cell in my body told me not to be).  This resulted in me finding myself locked up in the mental ward at the hospital to be evaluated.  That is a story unto its self but I'm thankful that my doctor cared enough to do something.

I don't know if it was divine intervention or a crazy impulsive act but one morning in early November I found myself at my computer sending an email to Child Protective Services.  I was writing to them to say that I was making doll clothes for my granddaughter's American Girl Doll for Christmas and if they had any little girls in their program that had American Girl dolls, I would like to volunteer to make doll clothes for them as well.  Before I even had time to think about it, I received an email back saying how grateful they were for my "kind and generous offer" and yes she knew of three little girls that would love to have American Girl doll clothes for Christmas.  I was also ask to sew a dress-up play dress for a little three year old if it wouldn't be too much trouble.

I sat there at my computer overwhelmed at what I had just done.  How was I going to sew doll clothes I wondered.  I wasn't even sure that I would be around at Christmas and now I had made a commitment and I would have to honor that commitment if I wanted to or not.  Dang, dang, dang I thought.

There would be many, many days during November and December when I had to make myself get out of bed, walk downstairs, and turn on my sewing machine.  It was so unbearably difficult but I was driven to complete my task and not disappoint any child.  Heaven knows they had faced far too many disappointments in their young lives or they wouldn't be in the Foster Child Program.  I wouldn't, couldn't disappoint them too.  I poured my heart and soul and every ounce of creativity inside me into those little outfits.  It became the motivating factor in my daily life.  I would sew from early morning until late into the night - every day.

As the days passed and the days turned into weeks and eventually the weeks became months, without even realizing it my depression slowly lessened.  On the day that I bundled up my little treasures and the little dress and sent them off with my son for delivery to CPS, I realized that I was smiling and life felt good.

I was suddenly aware of how one of my favorite Christmas stories "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" related to my own life and the lives of so many that have survived the loss of a loved one.  Grief tries to rob us of the joy in our lives - especially during the holidays and birthdays or any time that was special to us and our departed.

Remember how the Grinch (or Grief) slipped into Who-ville on Christmas Eve.

"It was quarter past dawn...
All the Who's, still a-bed
All the Who's, still a-snooze
When he packed up his sled,
Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons!, The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings!, The trappings!"

He even "took the Whos' feast!
He took the Who-pudding! He took the roast beast!"

Grief did that to me and to so many of you too.  It took from us even the smallest, most basic things and left us with nothing but our heartache and our tears.

But remember what happened next:

"Pooh-pooh to the Who's!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!"

For two years the spirit of Christmas passed me by.  The third year without Christian might have been a repeat of the first two.  My grief was too great.  Too big, too wide, too tall, too deep.  Grief had wrapped it's icy arms around me, planted my feet "ice cold in the snow", and held on tight but Grief had not counted on a lesson I had learned in Sunday School during my childhood.   A lesson that would warm my heart and release me from the bondage of depression.  Three simple words:  "Love one another".  The making of gifts had set me free.

"Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!

He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or another, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling! "How could it be so?"
It came without ribbons!  It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, "till his puzzler" was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store,
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

Indeed, it is a bit more - a lot, lot more.

Mark 2: 8  "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

9:  And, lo, the angel of the Lord, came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore afraid.

10:  And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

11:  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

13. "And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

14. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."



The grieving process is different for each of us and the length of that grief is unique to us individually.  My grief is not over - it never will be but hopefully, through service to others, I can manage it better than I have.

This year the Grinch (Grief) did not steal Christmas.  The thought of three little girls opening the gifts I made with my own hands brought a glow and a warmth into my heart that I hadn't felt in three years.

"And what happened then...?
Well...in Who-ville they say
That the Grinch's small heart
Grew three sizes that day!"

I feel as though my own heart has grown at least three sizes from where it was in October.  On January 18, we will memorialize the third year of Christian's passing.  It will be a hard day.  I cannot pretend it will be otherwise; but I know that I will be able to get past the tears a little easier and celebrate his life with more love and understanding than I have previously.  Hopefully Grief will not be able to steal any more holidays or any other special day that should be celebrated with love and warm memories.

This was sent to me by a dear friend from high school, Bob Chance.  It comes from the Book "The Dean's Watch":  "To Love and to Understand is the Key to Life."

I hope that each of you were able to celebrate Christmas with full hearts;  and that the warmth of season found its way into your lives.  May the joy of the season be with you all year long.  I send to each of you love and warm hugs.

CHRISTMAS - ONCE AGAIN - 2012

I thought I'd never have a Christmas tree again - except for the tiny tree my husband Patrick put up for our one year old grandson last year.   However, the baby loves it so much and Papa loves the baby so much that Patrick never took it down.  One day I felt the need and took it down but then the baby came for a visit and back up it went.  Crazy maybe but he loves touching the lights with his little finger and saying "Pretty" each time.  The baby rules.

For me that barely counts as a Christmas tree because it wasn't our family tree.  It was just a replacement tree that took no effort.  I think we only put three ornaments on it last year.

In years past the tree had been my big "project" of the year.  Each year had a different theme and was quite elaborate and took much planning (and expense).     One year it was peacocks and the tree was in beautiful shades of iridescent blues and greens.  Another was a Victorian theme and still another was a woodland theme and the tree was covered in different birds, bronze sparkling pinecones, etc.  Oh, how I loved my Christmas tree.

Then Christian left us and with his departure went my joy and my energy.  I had no interest at all the first Christmas without my son and there wasn't an ornament or any sign of Christmas or celebration of the holidays.  Last year was much the same except for that little tree for the baby.  Only last year the family came once again and filled the house with their laugher and warm hugs.  Still, I had little Christmas spirit.

This year would have been a repeat of last year but my husband decided to change that.  On Thanksgiving he had our son, Bobby, and sons-in-law, Ken and Matt, go down to the shed and haul the tree and the boxes and boxes and boxes of ornaments into the house.  It was fun going through the boxes but then I just put them aside and forgot them.

December 9th was a combination birthday party for Christian and an unplanned tree decorating party.  We did our annual balloon release in Christian's memory, sang "Happy Birthday",  and had his favorite cake.  Then I watched as the children decorated the tree.  Something I never would have done left on my own.

The magic of Christmas on a little boy's face.

Persephone carefully places a nesting bird.

Our little Christmas angel.

Persephone and baby Christian

Auntie Stephanie and Persephone

So now we have two trees - the big one and the baby's small one and I must admit they do bring a measure of festivity into the house.

I wish with all my heart that I could say that I'm enjoying the holidays but try as I will, I just can't.  I look around our house and remember how special and joyful it all was when Christian was here.  Each room holds a memory of his unique sense of humor and tells a story.  Now the house feels empty and I feel even more empty.  I wonder what it will take for the warmth I use to feel to once again fill that empty, cold place in my heart.

The tree is a start this year.  Maybe next year I will find joy in the season once again.

The Tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School

Today, December 14, 2012, at Sandy Hook Elementary School, Newtown, Connecticut twenty young innocents and six adults lost their lives in a crime that is barely comprehensible. And although we may be able to grasp the facts of what happened, we may never understand the reasoning behind such a devastating tragedy.

The shooter, a young man just twenty years of age, who according to those that study the development of the brain was almost a child himself.  He is gone by a self-inflected gunshot wound leaving us with no clear answers to our questions.  No one will ever know what happened this morning at the home he shared with his mother which caused him to end her life.   We will probably never know what happened that set into motion the horrifying events that followed.  We can guess.  We can hypothesis but the truth lies cold on the floor of Sandy Hook Elementary School locked away forever in the mind of a delusional young man.

What we do know is that his brother stated he had a personality disorder and was autistic.  As a mother who had a child that suffered from severe depression and eventually ended the pain by taking his own life by suicide, I know a little about mental disorders.  Therefore, I will not rush to judge this young man.

Was what he did reprehensible?  Was what he did to so many innocent victims unforgivable? Absolutely.  Was he mentally capable of understanding his actions?  That is yet to be determined.  I cannot imagine that anyone capable of taking the lives of twenty tiny children could be sane or in touch with his feelings or mental reasoning.

Tonight twenty sets of parents will go to bed knowing that never again will they be able to safely tuck their little ones into their beds, pull the blankets up around their small necks, and kiss them good night.  Loved ones of the teachers and administrators that perished will struggle with their loss, their unanswered questions, and their heartbreaking grief.  All have been robbed of future happiness with those stolen so cruelly from them.

In wake of this terrible, terrible tragedy it makes the happenings in my own life seem very small in comparison.

Tonight I lit a candle in memory of those that loss their lives today and for their families, friends, and the entire community of Newtown.  Tomorrow the President has set aside as a day of mourning.  Again I will light my candle.  I hope all of you will do the same.

We will grieve together as parents, as survivors, as tender hearts, and as a nation.  The faithful will pray; but regardless of our beliefs, we will hold our children a little tighter and stand a little closer together.

Those of us that have lost loved ones, especially when the loss was sudden and unexpected, understand what these families are going through.  We feel their pain because that type of pain has touched our lives too; we understand the empty place in their hearts;  and we know the numbness they are currently feeling.  We also know that the really tough days lie ahead when that numbness begins to wear off.  Let us hope that others will be there in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead to support them and love them and to understand that the pain they are feeling will never end.

Let us fervently hope that the surviving children that had to endure this horror receive all the love, understanding, and counseling they need to be mentally and emotionally healthy.  May the community as a whole come together and find the resources that will be needed to help them.

Heroes will surely come to light.  For me any teacher that reacted quickly to keep their students out of harms way are heroes.  Let us not forget that they, too, have been forever impacted by today's events.

Bless the first responders and crime scene examiners that had to face the carnage they found as they entered the halls and classrooms where the shooter left his victims and ultimately himself.

May God hold each victim, both living and deceased, in his loving Arms.