THE MAGIC OF THE HOLIDAYS

When you lose someone you love, the magic of the holidays tends to disappear.

My dad really loved Christmas time. He liked to go big. Big decorations, the biggest tree in the lot, all of it. Maybe it wasn’t his love for the holiday that was so big, but how much he loved his family. 

If you know loss then you know those first few holidays are so exceptionally painful. I remember just wanting to grin and bear my way through them. It’s like this out of body experience. Surely I can’t be staring at an empty chair. My dad is just going to walk through the door and crack a joke any minute. And crack a beer shortly after.

Life goes on and you shop for Christmas presents. Maybe have yourself a good cry in the men's section of Macy’s at the mall like my mom and I.

You make your favorite dishes, bake all the cookies and exchange gifts. You try so hard to be grateful for what you do have and focus on those that are still here but there is this deep endless void of grief glaring at you. You are in a room full of extended family members and yet the absence of one makes you feel so alone. Their laughter and sarcasm no longer fills the room. And that in itself can break you. 

There are too many things to ignore. The number of people seated around the table is now an odd number, and you fold ten napkins by mistake. Are you making their favorite dessert out of tradition or because the smell simply reminds you of them? Taking their stocking off the mantle makes it look off balance. It’s all off balance. All so unsteady. Their absence is felt in even the smallest of ways. 

Another layer of grief gets added when years later their absence starts to feel normal. In comes the guilt and anger. 

The holidays are just pretty hard for us grievers, am I painting a nice picture?

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I’m grateful I did get through those hard years and that I’ve made it to the point where I can see the magic in the holidays again.

And I owe that all to my son.

Seeing the Christmas magic through his two year old eyes this year helped lift the very heavy veil that grief held over the holidays for the last nine years.

When he talks about Santa or wants to watch the Polar Express, I know that we are about to start making some of our own memories and traditions as a family. And I know that through me, he will be able to feel my dads spirit around the holidays. 

The loss is still felt when my mom and I look at each other and say how much my dad would have enjoyed this. But this little boy offers us both hope. So much hope and love. 

So to the person who finds this holiday season particularly hard, my wish is that you hold onto the hope that one day you’ll feel the magic again.

Whether it’s through the eyes of your child, or maybe a new love in your life, or just simply because you worked really hard on healing. 

However you find that magic again, I just want you to know that it is there.

And I’ve got to tell you, it’s pretty beautiful.