The holidays. The good. The bad. The downright ugly. The holidays have been tough these past few years. This year, maybe, just maybe I’m starting to come out of the fog.
The feeling of having a real home again definitely helps. Family visiting near the holidays resulted in the enjoyment of decorating our new space to welcome them. The ornaments went on the tree with less tears than years before.
I’ve been reading quite a few posts over the past few weeks from widows and widowers experiencing the numbness, dread, and sadness that I’ve felt the past few years. There have also been occasional notes about how to help someone’s friend or family member that recently went through the loss of a spouse. Everyone is different, but I wanted to share my story with the hope that it may bring to some ideas to others.
My husband passed away when I was 29 with 2 and 4 year old daughters. That first Christmas was a blur – mainly because my eyes couldn’t quit crying. I couldn’t imagine going through the holidays without Steve, not sharing the joy of watching our daughters open gifts with him, or even not buying someone so special a gift at Christmas. Shopping was painful. When Steve was alive I struggled to find the “perfect” gift each year. When he died I saw so many things that would have been “perfect” that year, if only I had one more year. I rarely made it out of store without tears flowing. There were tissues in every coat pocket and throughout my purse. Our Christmas tree that year was one of the table top fake trees that we set out at his headstone. I just couldn’t do Christmas without him.
If this is you this year, I’m sorry. The holidays can suck. They will never be the same and no amount of time will ever replace the person that you lost. This year will be my 5th Christmas without Steve – I’m not even sure how that is possible. The loss hasn’t lessened, but I have learned how to find more joy in the season than years before.
This story doesn’t end there. That same Christmas my sister asked if they could provide the Santa gifts for my daughters. I gratefully said yes – it was one less thing for me to think about. What they did for my daughters is something I will likely never be able to repay. And honestly, it was the best Christmas gift I have ever gotten.
Steve loved to woodwork. He had made other children chairs and rocking horses for Christmas and was looking forward to making our daughters the same gifts. He was just finishing up his shop so he could get it done. Little did I know that an elf would land in his shop and find the plans for the rocking horses just laying out on a bench. Plans that I had never seen in all my trips out there. Fate? Maybe.
You see, this elf had a little nudge from an angel, my angel, and just knew he had to help make Steve’s dream a reality. This elf was my brother-in-law. He took the plans without my knowledge (I didn’t even know they existed in printed form) and crafted the most beautiful rocking horses for our girls. He wood burned an angel on one side of the saddle – the exact angel from a necklace Steve had given me. He also took samples of handwriting from Steve and combined it to wood burn the girls’ names on the horses in their Dad’s writing.
On Christmas morning the girls received a note from Santa explaining why they were given the horses. The note stated that their Dad had asked Santa and his elves for help this Christmas. He wanted to give the girls these horses, but couldn’t do it alone. Santa and his elves delivered gifts that I will never forget.
If you are reading this post and know someone that needs some help – be Santa’s elf. You don’t have to handcraft something for it to be special. A small gift with a heartfelt note means so much – it means that person is not forgotten this holiday season.
Widowhood is hard, and during the holidays it seems to be even more difficult. Widows are at risk for being forgotten – after all, their spouse may have been the only person to do something special for them on the holiday. If there are children, a story of their angel parent or sharing something their mom/dad loved can mean a lot.
Pick up the phone. Send a note. Make a meal. It doesn’t matter how long it has been since you have connected or how many years it has been since death forever changed their world. They will never forget the fact that this year you remembered.