Christmas shopping thirty two years ago in Fredonia’s little department store I frantically searched for just the right gift and I found the mugs. Looking back now it is blurred in grief. My father loved coffee, so I chose a set of mugs for him; they are vividly etched in my mind forever.
My Thanksgiving coming and going was uneventful. I left for Rochester to visit my college roommate. We headed to Disney on Ice, returning late to Debbie’s there was an eerie silence; there had been an accident, I needed to go home, everything would be fine, her parents would put me on the prayer line.
My dad had died. My world crumbled and his presents remained unopened. Staying up all night cleaning I hoped to find rhyme or reason or meaning; all these eluded me. The day before we all enjoyed our Thanksgiving meal and afterwards watched The Waltons, the old movie where the Grandpa died when a tree fell on him. My father died in the same way. I have always wondered if God was trying to prepare me.
Grief has its own timeframe and just when we think we are fine a memory or a thought will bring all the sadness with its crushing loneliness back to us. I can’t prepare for Thanksgiving without wondering, “If I had known my dad would die the next day, would I have stayed home, given him his presents earlier, told him I loved him?”
Grieving?
Processing grief while walking into the holidays is like carrying an elephant into a room full of party goers- they’re all going to a gathering your soul cannot find the clothes for. Be very gentle with yourself. Hold the memories as a precious gift and slowly let go; release your loved one to embrace those who are with you now; they need you as much as you needed the one who has died.
Medicine from Sacred Scripture:
“A Father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in HIs holy temple. God sets the solitary in families.” Psalm 68:5-6
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