CLAY AND WATTLES

Thoughts on Christmas

I got a newsletter from Sanctuary Hospice House yesterday and it assured me I wasn't losing my mind. "If you feel you are 'going crazy' know you are not alone. Some normal and very common responses people experience in grief are:

Reoccurring need to tell the story about the loss. Sher and I do this with each other, bless our hearts.

Restlessness, forgetfulness and/or difficulty concentrating. And I thought it was menopause, computer use, stress at work, and the Christmas season.

Sensing the deceased person's presence. I can't really say I've had this happen, though at times I will fleetingly think I need to call Mama. And this time of year, the 2-year anniversary of Teri's diagnosis, and nearing the 2-year anniversary of her death, everything - every Christmas song, every decoration, light and Christmas program, reminds me of her and of Mama. So, yes, I suppose they are very present. Mama and Teri are always, always in my thoughts somewhere, in some form.

Changes in eating and sleeping patterns. Sometimes all I want is chocolate, Dr. Pepper and French fries. Sometimes I go to bed at 8:00, and sometimes at 11:00. And I never want to get up at 6:00 a.m. to start it all over again.

Crying and/or sharp mood swings. See above about Christmas music. I can't help it - I have to listen to Sarah McLachlan's "Wintersong," and James Taylor's "James Taylor at Christmas." I want to cry when I'm too cold, which is most of the time. I want to cry when I look at "Southern Living" magazine. I want to cry when I plug in my little Christmas tree. I want to cry because I haven't even the energy to get the extension cord from the garage to plug up the lights on the outdoor wreath. I want to cry when I can't download pictures at work. Then I feel extreme guilt when they temporarily fix it where I can. I want to hit something, break something. My skin feels like it's going to crawl off me sometimes. I just want to cry because that's what I want to do. I want to run and I can't run any more. I want to feel new and I don't any more.

Feelings of guilt or regret. One of the most regretful things is the day we took Mama to the nursing home for 3 hours. Another regretful thing is that I didn't beat the crap out of the doctor who walked away from me, as if she were washing her hands entirely of Mama's situation. I regret the one night no one was with Mama, but it was only one. (Crying begins here.) I feel guilty that I didn't call her every day instead of every week. (More crying.) Actually we were very good to Mama and there are very few regrets, but still... I regret she was sick and died.

Weakness and lack of energy. See above about getting out the extension cord. Lots of sighing. Lots of clothes hanging on door knobs at home I have no use for hanging up in closets now, and no closet space, and no energy to clean out closets. There are still boxes of Mama's things sitting in the den. They are sorted, but they are still sitting there.

So - thank you SHH, for letting me know I'm not the only one who feels this way. God bless us every one.

There are many things this Christmas season I am, truly, thankful for:

My family.
Friends.
Routine.
Oscar. Bitty.
New calendars.
Glorious Gift of Christmas at my church.
Episcopal Candle and Reading Service.
My Sunday School class.
New babies.
New traditions: Going to Amy's for Christmas.
Old traditions: Going to Mama Nick's for Christmas Breakfast; seeing Bren,
reading the Christmas Story in Luke.
Writing therapy.
Christmas movies. "It's a Wonderful Life" "National Lampoon's Christmas"
"A Christmas Story"
Christmas cards.
Letters and calls from Margaret, Ray (Shirley's husband).
Hand lotion.
Marbles.

Blessings are there. When I can focus and have energy, when I'm not busy crying and trying to keep sinus headaches at bay, when I feel better, when I have uninterrupted time to sit and actually see Christmas lights blur out of focus because I'm staring at them - I'll realize the blessings are there.

Thank You, God. Your bottle for my tears must be enormous.