Grieving Parent

Tag: Christmas

Christmas Memories

Of our three children, Richard probably looked most forward to Christmas.

He was four months old on his first Christmas. After we put the tree up we brought Richard into the room and put him on the floor in front of the tree. He lit up just like that tree. He just squealed and laughed. He wriggled and pushed those little arms and legs, trying with all his might to get over to the tree. He loved it.

As he got older he would always like to go over, lie down under the tree and look up at the lights from below.

He also loved the little snow globe that we set out at Christmas time. He would shake it up and watch the snow swirl around Santa over and over again. He’s holding one of these in the picture above.

Last year Debbie bought him a really nice snow globe. It has a wood base and a glass globe. And a music box built in. It was on the desk in his apartment when he died.

This snow globe was on Richard’s desk in his apartment.

Richard insisted on following our family traditions. Wouldn’t hear of changing things.

We still had to put up his stocking every year. Always had to have country ham for breakfast.

The kids bedrooms are upstairs. When they were young they always had to stay upstairs on Christmas morning until we said it was OK to come down.

They might wake up an hour before we did, but they had to just wait on the old folks. They’d gather at the top of the stairs and try to peek down. Often we’d just lie in bed and listen to them. They’d be whispering to each other.

“Are they up yet?”

“I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Can you see any presents?”

“No, it’s too dark.”

Little by little their volume would increase. Finally they’d give up and start yelling at us to wake up.

I’d drag things out to tease them.

“Can we come down now?”

“No, we have get the tree lit up first.”

“Hurry up” “Can we come down NOW?”

“Nope, I have to get the camera ready.” And on it would go.

Last year Richard was 22 at Christmas. He still waited at the top of the stairs for the all clear from mom and dad.

12/18/2009
Christmas Decorating at the Cemetery

Sunday afternoon we did a little Christmas decorating at the cemetery.

There have already been many wreaths showing up. Debbie decided she wanted Richards grave to look different. So she bought a couple of small live trees. She put in a few ornaments and red bows.

Richard always insisted on cranberry sauce for Christmas. Not the store bought kind, that stuff that looks like it came out of a tin can jello mold. Nope. It had to be the real thing.

So every year Debbie bought cranberries and cooked them on the stove with sugar. This was a time consuming job requiring lots of stirring. Richard helped. Some.

So Debbie got cranberries and made strings of berries with them. We placed them on the trees.

We took these potted trees to the cemetery. I dug them in deep enough the wind shouldn’t be able to turn them over. We put one at Richard’s grave and one at my mom’s grave, which is located behind Richard.

After Christmas we’ll take them out and plant them somewhere.

12/16/2009
A Christmas Letter to God

Dear God,

I hope this letter finds you well. How are things in heaven? I hope all is going well. I guess they’d have to be pretty good, or they wouldn’t call it heaven would they?

Down here on earth they say you are all knowing and all powerful. That you never screw up. In fact they say you’re infallible, because, well you’re God and all that.

But there’s another thing they say a lot down here, “There’s a first time for everything.”

I think you’ve made your first screw up. I mean, can we talk?

It’s about this grieving parent gig you’ve set up for us.

I’ve been trying real hard for better than six months now, but I have to tell you God, this just isn’t working out. I’m just not cut out for this line of work. And I don’t think Debbie is either.

You know how she is about Christmas. Heck, you’ve seen her through the years. You know how she always turns on the Christmas tree lights every night. It’s part of her daily routine during the Christmas season.

Well I don’t have to tell you God, but we put the tree up at Thanksgiving; while Sarah was here. And the lights were turned on that couple of days she was with us. But now that Sarah is back in Texas, do you know that Debbie hasn’t plugged in the lights once? You know that just isn’t like her at all.

And I’ve been trying to use the tools you gave me to handle this job. Sarah, that incredible, beautiful daughter you sent us, is really into positive psychology. She sent me a book called Strengths Quest that included a big test that let me discover my five core strengths. It kind of unlocks the way you made my brain function so I can use it better.

According to the test results my core strengths are Learner, Intellection, Belief, Achiever and Analytical.

Well I’ve been trying hard to learn the ropes here. I’ve got this big pile of books. One’s about grief. Others about life after death. I have to tell you God, that Learner strength has sure cost me a lot of money in books and courses down through my lifetime. But anyway, I’ve been trying to learn all about this grieving parent thing.

And that Intellection strength – you know the one that says I like to think about stuff and work on problems? Well I’ve really kicked that into high gear. I don’t think about much of anything else but this grieving parent job and Richard. It’s like I have this 24/7 Grief TV cable channel wired directly into my head. It plays all the time. I try to turn the sound down sometime so I can think about something else, you know like the job I get paid to do or talking to someone, but I can’t ever seem to turn it off. It’s always there in the background.

And the Analytical think is really a pain. When it kicks in, it just keeps coming up with all these “why didn’t you do this” and “you should have done that” kind of thoughts. Going back over all the things I should have done to keep this from happening to Richard. And that doesn’t seem very helpful. I mean, it’s too damn late now, you know? I just try to not let Analytical join in much.

And Achiever is just lost. That part of my brain is looking for a goal, somewhere to aim all this mental and emotional effort. But what am I aiming for? Happiness? That went away with Richard. Can’t ever get that back. There only appears to be a hollow shell of happiness available to us now. And Achiever doesn’t find that a very exciting target to shoot for.

And the Belief strength. It’s taken a beating here. First there is that core value of family. We just lost a big chunk of the family. I still love the parts that are left, that’s certain. But I feel like a big part of my soul is gone now.

And of course at the top of the Belief thing is you.

But I have to be honest with you here God, I was pretty pissed at you when you took Richard away. I’ve been trying to give you the benefit of the doubt and all. I mean I know I’m just a lowly person and don’t know your master plan. And I do believe you have one and everything happens in this world for a reason – your reason. But can’t you give a bit of a clue? I mean how hard is it to send an angel down to explain this to us?

That Clarence guy from It’s a Wonderful Life, I liked him. Send him down. Or better yet, you’ve got Farrah Fawcett up there now. I mean, she was an Angel down here on earth, so she’d be a natural. Send her down to explain. I’d like talking to her.

Or send Richard back to talk to us about it. I’ve read in some of the books I mentioned above, that when people leave the earth and move to the spirit world, they can come back and visit. I’ve read lot’s of accounts of it. But I haven’t heard a word from our son. What’s with that?

Anyway, I think it is very obvious that we just aren’t cut out for this grieving parent thing.

I know it’s hard to admit a mistake. But really, what were you thinkng?

But the good news is you’re God. You can fix it!

So just send Richard back. No harm no foul. You don’t even have to reimburse us for the funeral expenses.

You could really help me out of a jam if you could get this done for Christmas. It would make a great gift for Debbie and I’ve just not been able to think much about what to get her for Christmas. Don’t seem to have the emotional energy to shop for gifts this year.

So with that I’ll close this letter. Merry Christmas.

Sincerely,
Joe

12/15/2009