TUH talks health: Baubles of memories at Christmas time
While lights are twinkling and carols are being sung and the mince pies and pudding are being consumed this Christmas season, there are many hearts that will be hurting.
This Christmas will feel very different for the bereaved and for those who are sick, lonely, frightened or facing a daunting future.
Christmas can be a time that magnifies feelings of loss. Many find it harder to manage their grief because they think about and miss their loved one more often during this season.
Some may experience being distracted from their grief by social occasions and celebrations.
There is no way to prepare for the emotional impact of bereavement and there is no way of knowing how you may feel from one day to the next.
Even if you may recognise the meaning of the season, your heart is simply not in it. It is as if the darkness of winter enters you’re very self.
It is difficult to appreciate but remember – these next few weeks will pass.
They can be incredibly difficult but in almost the blink of an eye you will be looking back, having survived to a greater or lesser extent. That thought can perhaps give you comfort and hope even now.
I think our loved ones would want nothing more from us than to remember them.
In the midst of the festivities, it is important to acknowledge our grief and loss because their presence is felt, even by their absence.
Reflecting on our happy memories of times spent with the person who has died can be helpful over the festive period.
Why not create a new ritual or tradition, such as cutting off a twig from the Christmas tree and laying it at their grave or at a place that was special to them. Or place a memory or photograph inside a clear craft bauble. Or simply place their name(s) inside your favourite bauble.
Many grieving people like to keep busy to distract them from their grief.
And so going for a memorial walk with a friend or family member, where you can chat openly about your memories and what the person meant to you may be helpful.
Although some people enjoy reflecting on the past, it is also important to recognise that others may not be ready to speak openly yet.
Try to be mindful of this and let them know that their choices will be respected.
For those who want to be able to support the bereaved at this time of the year, perhaps you can imagine some of the thoughts a bereaved person might be having or might want to express to you at times:
Give me time: I will not always be myself and I will not know when it will happen.
A favourite song may cause tears to fall. I may see a Christmas decoration and become emotional.
I may see you with your loved one and that may be painful for me. Give me time and space.
Don’t be hurt: Please don’t be hurt if I say no to invitations. I may not be having a good day – a party may be too much of a reminder of my sadness. I may suddenly step out of a room because I need a minute to myself. I may need to leave early.
Be sensitive: Be aware of what I’m going through. Please don’t send me a Christmas card with a quick message saying “Hope you have an amazing Christmas!” I probably won’t.
Please don’t ask me about my plans without acknowledging that I may be having a hard time. Be sensitive that this Christmas is not “just another Christmas” to me.
Remember me: It will mean a lot to me when you acknowledge my loss and that you remember me.
Don’t go: I know it’s not always easy caring for me right now. Please don’t go. I am doing my best, and even though I won’t always be the life of the party, I still need reminders of life and hope and love. Someday I may have a “merry” Christmas, but this Christmas I don’t yet experience that.
The heart of the Christmas story is that light shines in darkness. Christmas holds a message for the broken as well as the joyful.
It is not just about joy, thoughtful gifts, precious family time, or cherished traditions.
Christmas is about hope – hope for the broken; hope for grown men who wake up in the middle of the night and sob into their pillows; hope for grieving mothers who bravely pack one less school lunch then last year; hope for traumatised children who don’t have words for their feelings; hope for those that are silently suffering in secret; hope for the hopeless.
Hope for you and me.
