Today is the last day of 2017. The last year that Hayley was alive. The last day of the most horrifying year of my entire life. The last day of the Christmas season, Hayley’s favorite. So many lasts. So many firsts. First Christmas without her. First new year’s eve without her. First family vacation without her. It just depends on how you look at it, I guess. One of the things people have talked about is that this blog helps them understand my grief, their grief or the grief of other loved ones. It has to be one of the most difficult experiences to explain to someone that has been lucky enough not to feel it at this level. This weekend there was a clear example that might help. It is a very simple and raw example. I will get to it shortly. These “episodes” are getting more frequent. Honestly I usually feel melancholy every year during Christmas. It has been my own fault. I have such high expectations and steep responsibilities for the Holiday. I want it to be perfect for my family. Like so many of my friends I shop for the perfect gifts, I decorate, I bake, and I set expectations every single year that this will be the best Christmas ever. What I never saw until this year was that those expectations were unattainable. Mainly because by the time we reached Christmas morning I was so exhausted that I was too tired to enjoy it. This left me feeling like it didn’t go well. This year I sat back and watched everyone else stress out. Most of my shopping was done online. Henry has always had a simple list, short but expensive! I didn’t do any late night shopping. I didn’t plan what to bake, how to package it, present it and who would get it. I watched all my Mom friends doing this. Man it did not look like fun. The weeks leading up to Christmas are absolutely insane for Moms. Do you think the Dads or Kids even notice? Probably not. No one ever says thank you for giving up every free minute of the last two weeks hand addressing 150 Christmas Cards. Honestly we would only get about 30 cards each year. That is a shitty return on investment. Plus I think half only send one when they get one from me. This year we didn’t send any and we only received about 10. Maybe people didn’t think a “Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays” was appropriate knowing we are not Merry or Happy. This made me think of a new tip. 8 of those cards have not been opened. Why? Because I do not want to see the beautiful photos of your children, and your family. Designing and sending cards of my kids has always been my favorite holiday task. I have been sending them for 20 years, this is the first year I did not. I will open those cards and enjoy the sentiment maybe next week. I love all my friends and their children, that is not what it is about. Seeing you have what I don’t stings and if I am honest brings a feeling of jealousy. So my tip; if someone has lost member of their nuclear family. Spouse, daughter, son. Do not send your family card with the perfect photo. The one in a pose your family never stands in. I know you don’t mean harm but it might be hard, it might be a trigger. Send a handwritten card. “We are thinking of your family, we wish you the happiest holiday possible.” Nothing has been normal since July 11th. So send the card, but don’t send a photo of your normal Christmas. AND stop running around and making yourself exhausted. You know what our kids want for Christmas besides the iPhone X; they want you to be happy. They want their family to be happy. You really can’t be 100% happy when you are exhausted and thinking about how much you have left to do. Simplify. Be Present.
Let me try to get back on track. This is an example of the episodes I have been having. I have been painting rocks. It is fun, it is relaxing and when doing it with a friend it is a fun way to catch up and relax together. Plus I have to get exercise to go hide them so people can find them. I needed a better tablecloth to add to my rock painting kit. I remembered that I had two in my Christmas box that every year I never use. They are more outdoor linens. One would be perfect. Should I pick the red or green. Green, more year round, better background for painting. Scott was in the family room. I went into the garage grabbed the item. I came in and was folding it neatly when I flashed back to when I purchased the tablecloth and what it was used for. It took my breath away. I set the folded green cloth down on the table and with both hands on top of it to hold myself up, I began to weep. Deep sobs. Seriously I should send in a photo of myself at these moments to Webster Dictionary for them to put next to “ugly crying”. Poor Scott, came over and was perplexed we had just been chatting and all of a sudden I was bent over as if I had taken an invisible fist to the gut. I explained to him that the tablecloth brought back a happy memory and the stark comparison to that day and today was just so overwhelming that I had to stop everything and just remember to breathe. Of course he doesn’t remember the tablecloth but with his hand on my back I told him it was from a day spent playing in the snow years ago, maybe when the kids were 4 and 8. It was at this property in the mountains were you reserve tents and space. You take a horse drawn sleigh to the destination. The location had a terrific sledding hill. You shared a tent with a fire with other families. There must have been over a dozen Sammamish Families there that day. Probably more, there was easy 75 people sharing food, drinks, and sledding together. The kids couldn’t escape or sled into the street, it was a perfect bowl of fun in the mountains. I can’t remember everyone that was there but I bet I know dozens of them better than I did before now. I had bought those two table clothes to cover the picnic table. Susie made her Chili and hauled that big pot all the way there. I was in charge of sweets and to simplify, I had filled a basket with ding dongs, ho hos, and twinkles! Super easy to eat with gloves. I was a hit. It was truly a fun day. Hayley spent the day playing with her brother. Kayla, Hayley, Henry, Doug, Justin, all made forts and had an epic snowball fight. Henry got pegged in the face and I remember cuddling him in the warm tent. Hayley came back in and said “come on momma’s boy we need you our team”. She so didn’t need the 4 year old on her team, but that was a moment of sister kindness I will never forget. We all went home exhausted, dirty, cold, some of us buzzed and looking forward to getting a spot on the reservation for the next year. Except Doug, I think he hurt his back, I can’t remember. I packed those tablecloths with my decorations and used them here and there but they will always be a reminder of Sammamish heading East for the day. I reminded Scott of all these memories. He said quietly ” I remember”. I told him this is what happens, the memory hits and I am a mess. I remember details. My long term memory is super accurate. I am the keeper of my family’s memories. Scott remembers that day but not all the details. He wouldn’t remember the twinkles or Henry’s “injury”. It is excruciating painful because you let her into your head and your heart when you recall a loving memory. You quickly realize that you will never have that kind of experience with her again.
That moment or episode is like you just lost her again. All of that because of a tablecloth. It is so unfair. I have lost my child. Then grief steals your memories. It is a thief that takes your happy memories and covers them with a layer of fog, and sprinkles regret and sadness over them. Just like the Grinch when he took everything from Whoville. What I can’t figure out is how to get past the fog and still find a way to want to sing in the middle of the town square.
I so wish you were living in Whoville and all that you were missing was Christmas. ❤❤XO