Grieving Parent

Tag: Christmas

  • Christmas Decorating at the Cemetery

    Christmas Decorating at the Cemetery

    This past weekend Debbie and I went to the cemetery with Christmas trees.

    Once again we took small, real trees. We plan to take them and plant them somewhere later. Hopefully we’ll retrieve them before they disappear this time.

    Richard's 2010 Christmas tree.
    Richard’s 2010 Christmas tree.

    Last year Debbie made strings of cranberries to put on the trees.

    Richard liked cranberries. Not that Jello looking stuff you plop out of a can, but the real deal. He and Debbie would cook up real cranberries in our big cast iron skillet. When he was young he liked to help stir the sugary berry mix and watch the cranberries pop. I think he was the only member of the family that really cared much for them – though the real thing was much better than the canned version. We had cranberries every Christmas because Richard wanted them.

    Debbie also thought the birds would like the fresh berries.

    Well the birds didn’t pay much attention to them, and Richard didn’t reach out and pluck any of them off the tree either. So this year she decided it wasn’t worth the work. She bought some strings of red beads and put them on the trees. There are also some small balls and ribbons.

    While we were there, we met another set of grieving parents, the Longs. Their son Michael Todd Long is one of Richard’s neighbors now. He died at the age of 15. That was about 13 years ago. They were there to decorate their son’s headstone.

    The Long's decorate the top of their son's stone.
    The Long’s decorate the top of their son’s stone.

    Like us, they have parents buried close by and will join their son there some day. She told me she wasn’t in any hurry to die, but she wasn’t afraid of it either, because she knew she’d get to she her son again when it happens.

    Exactly.

  • The Lost Christmas Eve

    The Lost Christmas Eve

    It may be a long night.

    I’m sitting here listening to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album called “The Lost Christmas Eve.” I’m on the second repeat so far. There will probably be many more. When I get in these moods, I can listen to the same music over and over for hours.

    The lost Christmas Eve… the lost Christmas spirit. It’s now our life. Christmas has gone away.

    DO ANGELS KEEP THE DREAMS WE SEEK
    WHILE OUR HEARTS LIE BLEEDING?

    I remember Richard’s first Christmas. He was 4 months old. We put him on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. He would light up brighter than the bulbs on the tree, squeal with delight, and try with all his might to wriggle to that tree.

    As he was growing up he liked to crawl up under the tree, lie on his back and just lay there looking up through the branches at the lights.

    Richard always made sure the lights on the tree were plugged in. He wouldn’t let us vary much from our Christmas traditions and rituals. He loved it.

    AND THE TIME AND THE YEARS
    AND THE TEARS AND THE COST
    AND THE HOPES AND THE DREAMS
    OF EACH CHILD THAT IS LOST

    Last year we only turned on the lights a couple of times – when we put up the tree at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas.

    So far this year the tree is still in the box.

    SOMEWHERE IN THE DARK
    BEYOND ALL THE COLD
    THERE IS A CHILD
    THAT’S PART OF MY SOUL

    And now Christmas is lost. It’s buried in an oak box, under a couple of feet of earth. And I don’t know how to find it. And I sit in the wee hours of the morning riding the music, when I should be sleeping.

    THE LURE OF A DREAM
    AND I’M AFRAID TO WALK BACK THROUGH THAT DOOR
    TO FIND THAT I’VE AWAKENED

    I feel guilty because I can’t find Christmas. I still have a beautiful daughter. A great wife. A loving and supportive family. Friends that care.

    GOT TO GET BACK TO A REASON
    GOT TO GET BACK TO A REASON I ONCE KNEW

    And I know Richard has now reached the great promise of Christmas. That same promise tells us we’ll be with him again when the time is right.

    But that’s such a hard thought to hold onto.

  • Tree Thieves Strike

    Tree Thieves Strike

    Christmas was always a big deal to Richard. So we put out a Christmas tree at his grave and one at my mom’s grave which is located right behind Richard’s. We used live trees, intending to plant them somewhere later.

    They were in pots. We just dug into the ground and buried them up to the rim of the pot.

    I made a trip to the cemetery today. Where once there were Christmas trees there are now holes in the ground. The picture above is where our tree once stood.

    Our cemetery has a rule against artificial decorations. They allow an exception during the Christmas season. During Christmas we are allowed to place wreathes and other artificial decorations. At the end of January the artificial decorations must be removed.

    I never thought a real live tree would fall under this rule.

    But it seems my definition of artificial is much different than the staff of the cemetery.

    Very aggravating.

  • Christmas Morning 2009

    Christmas Morning 2009

    Dear Richard,

    It’s Christmas.

    You’re not here. It’s not the same without you.

    No country ham. We did have bacon, nice and crispy but not burnt.

    Sarah passed out the gifts. You weren’t sitting cross-legged on the floor to get yours. Your stocking was empty. Unless you count all the thoughts of love that we sent out to you.

    It was a nice morning – sort of.

    Not as nice as the twenty-two Christmas mornings that we had you here with us.

    And we didn’t go to the farm. Your uncle Stuart had to have back surgery a week ago and he can’t travel much. So we went to his house this time. You probably would have enjoyed it, even though you don’t like to change our traditions. They have a pool table and Foosball.  There was a lot of heated compitition – just the way you like it.

    Merry Christmas son.

    We miss you.

    Love,
    Dad

  • My First Compassionate Friends Meeting

    My First Compassionate Friends Meeting

    I always take off from work several days before the Christmas break. I did so this year too.

    So I was able to go to a meeting of The Compassionate Friends at our local chapter in Frankfort KY last night.  This is one of the more active chapters going. They hold a meeting twice each month. The norm is once per month.

    There were four men there. We were out numbered by the ladies by about 2 to 1. Of the four men, three of us are named Joe. I have no idea if that means anything, but it’s interesting anyway.

    The meeting started with each of us introducing ourselves and telling a little about our child. Counting Debbie and myself there were three of us that had lost our child within the past 6 months. At the other end of the spectrum there was a couple that lost their child nearly 21 years ago.

    This led into a natural spin off to issues of handling grief.

    As expected, those of us that have recently become bereaved parents still feel pain in a very raw and overwhelming way. What really made an impact on me is how intrense that pain still is for those parents that have been facing this problem for years. I knew it would be something that we’d never really “get over” but I didn’t really realize just how powerful that feeling remains. This is a long hard road that lays before us.

    We had a long discussion about getting through the Christmas season.

    Almost none of the people there listen to Christmas music. Even those that lost a child years ago. One of the couples said they no longer exchange gifts. One said he avoids going into Walmart during the holiday season. This must mean he only goes in there about half the year, because it seems they start playing Christmas music right after the 4th of July holiday.

    The general consensus was the desire to fast forward past the holidays completely.

    Yep, I agree the holidays are really tough. I’ve been on the edge for the past month. But I don’t want to completely avoid everyone during the season. My family has been a big part of surviving this for both of us. I still want to be with them on Christmas. I would like to skip the gift giving part though.

    We had a little food and fellowship. Just talking about our kids and our grief experience with people that are living it too.

    Our friends and family want to help, but they have no idea how. We have no idea how either. But TCF gives us a chance to spend time with people that understand this horrible mess in a way no one else can.

    It’s a long hard road. Maybe it’s best to not travel it alone.