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.
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