It's That Time Again

I started filling "agita" as my Nana used to say in September when I noticed that they had already gotten out the Christmas stuff at Wegmans. How could I make it through another Christmas without Jeff? Thank God I still see my psychologist friend Helen who told me way back then that my assignment was to force myself to live each day for that day itself, not for the day afterwords, or the holiday afterwords, or Christmas coming up... So I did. And I managed pretty well.

It being three weeks after Thanksgiving, I can write in all honesty that Thanksgiving this year wasn't as bad as last year. But the truth of the matter is that on Thanksgiving Day, itself, I felt that it was worse. The juxtaposition of celebrating these holidays, Thanksgiving (when we give thanks for all that we have) and Christmas (when we celebrate the birth of Jesus) -- while supposedly reveling in wonderful feelings of family and friends -- to do that and sit with the fact that your son is died -- is simply too much for any one person or family to deal with.

I read somewhere recently an article written by a woman whose child had died. She wrote that the death of your child is so unimaginable that throughout your entire life you never really end up believing that it happened. I know this to be the case from conversations with parents whose children have died years and years ago.

The second annual Ceremony of Remembrance was held this past Sunday. About 15 families including ours came to this ceremony to celebrate the life of the child who had died. My goal this year was to have families from the city and the west come to the Ceremony and I can proudly say that I met my goal. We had music (harp, clarinet), 2 soloists, many readings, candlelighting, a slideshow and refreshments at the end. Looking at it as one would look at a beautiful picture, I can truthfully say it turned out well and I was happy to have done it. As long as I lay aside my reasons for being part of the group who honored someone, I can say it went well.

There were numerous boys in Pittsford Varsity Lacrosse uniforms which was amazing for me to see. How could they come again this year? And why? I was happy to see them there -- putting on my bereavement specialist hat -- but it really sadden me so. I have to say something about those who attended. My sisters -- Elaine, Peggy ....and Mary Ellen and Nell came. I am realizing more each day how little being a sister has to do with sharing the same parents. My "sisters" continue to bare witness to what I am feeling and for that I am forever grateful. I am also grateful to the men -- of all ages -- in particular who know us and who came to the Ceremony. Men grieve so very very differently from women. For men, I believe, attending a public ceremony like this, poses a challenge in a society that still does not feel comfortable about its men crying. (How could we let them cry, if we rely predominately upon them to fight our wars, still). I noticed the men who attended and the men who did not. I noticed my women friends who attended and my women friends who did not. The bitter Mary Jane would say something nasty about people who are too selfish to support me right now, in this of all months. But the reality is, I think people simply can't get how it feels to have a child die -- and I never got it with Jody after her Seth died. But more than that, I don't think I wanted to get it. It was too painful to fathom so I simply choose not to spend any more time than the minimum in remembering her deceased son or her and her husband dealing with his death. For me, that was all that precluded me from acknowledging to her, Seth's death. For men, add to these feelings the fear of "losing it"...and you have men grieving differently from women. So I commend the young males as well as the older ones for going to this event. I feel wrapped with the love of those who attended to honor Jeff and I am hoping that this feeling continues to carry me through the next week.

Tonite I watched Criminal Minds which ended with a quote from Dwight Eisenhower. "There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were."