Grieving in the Season of Merriment

December marks the “most wonderful time of the year” and we are reminded of this through song, decorations, sermons, gifts and even smells. As a person walking through deep grief, it feels far from merry most days and certainly not jolly. During a season marked for togetherness, grief can isolate once again even in a room of loved ones.

So how do we get through a season of celebration when our hearts are in tiny broken pieces? How do we take holiday family photos or buy gifts knowing our son is not going to be with us Christmas morning?

There are no simple answers. 

I can tell myself that Christmas is about our savior and the miracle of His birth. I can look forward to time with people I love and cherish. I can take intentional time to “pre-grieve” ahead of Christmas in preparation for moments of celebration.

But, at the end of the day, my heart misses my son terribly even if it is advent. I simply don’t feel merry & bright just because those are the lyrics I hear as I sit in traffic.

Even though I miss our son desperately, I want to be fully present for Christmas for his big brother. Picturing him on Christmas morning, I want the atmosphere of our home to be that of joy and celebration. But, how is that possible when we are missing ¼ of our little family?

I thought I’d share something that has seemed to help me in my grief during this sacred season. I keep thinking about the fact that I will only have a certain number of Christmas days.

My paternal grandfather got 96 Christmas days. My maternal grandmother got 72. My cousin got 37.

My precious son was given ONE Christmas day.

If I think of Christmas in terms of a special gift that you only receive a few times in your whole life versus a day to simply survive, it is somehow a bit easier for me to approach this holy day with less dread and even a bit of anticipation and dare I say...worship.

So, I will hang our Hudson’s stocking as a way to include him on this first Christmas without our boy. In his honor, I will donate to families who are hurting right this minute with children in the cardiac intensive care unit at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. 

If I count my Christmas days, it causes me to pause and makes me want to be fully present to make significant memories with those I love. I only get a few of these. Even with lots of traditions, each and every Christmas day is unique and special.

So my plan is to walk into my 38^th Christmas day, bringing Hudson along in my heart for his first Christmas day in heaven. 

There is no tension of merriment and grief in heaven. It is just joy there. No more tears. No more tensions.

Thanks be to God.

O Come, Let us Adore Him!

If your heart is breaking today as we enter the Christmas season, perhaps it might help you as well to take a minute and ask, 

“How many Christmas days will I get?”

Hudson's Christmas Stocking

As a way of honoring our son, Hudson’s fight of congenital heart disease, we will be collecting gift cards of any amount to fill Hudson’s Christmas stocking.

We will be sending the gift cards to families who are battling heart disease with a card from Hudson’s Stocking including a note about Hudson’s strong fight.

Families in the hospital on Christmas day desire so desperately to make the day unique and a celebration even in the midst of deep pain and sadness. We hope this small surprise will bring a smile to their tear stained faces.

We hope to send at least 25 gift cards from Hudson!

To join efforts with us, you can mail a gift card of any amount to:

Hudson’s Christmas Stocking

PO Box 1192

Kannapolis, NC 28082