Trying to Have a Merrier Christmas

...without letting grief get in the way.

It’s the holidays, and a difficult time for many.

Including me.

Right now, I’m okay.

But just a few days ago, I was sad, despondent, a bit depressed.

Why?

There are several anniversaries in early December that are difficult for me.

The oldest one is on December 5th.

That’s my father’s birthday. This year, he would have been 99 years old.

He died in 2014, a little over a year after my mom died.

The official cause of death was congestive heart failure, but a broken heart was just as responsible for his passing.

My mom and dad had almost reached their 69th wedding anniversary. Through five children and life’s ebbs and flows, they remained devoted to each other.

My dad was the hardest working, most loving man I’ve ever known.

He loved his family, God, and sports. He left high school to help support his parents, and never looked back.

He was funny, patient, industrious, and uh…thrifty.

He was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy both literally and figuratively.

He was old-fashioned about men’s hair length, men’s facial hair other than a mustache, and men wearing earrings.

When I sported an afro or a beard, the family joked that I wasn’t “Daddy’s boy.” (He never had to worry about an earring. I’ve been punctured enough with needles not to ever have considered getting them pierced).

He was handy. He could fix or jerry-rig just about anything.

That gene passed to some extent to both of my brothers but missed me entirely.

He and Mom married in 1944 and had five kids. I brought up the rear.

Dad was never the same after Mom died in 2013.

He did the best he could to find a will to live.

He hung in for a while, but with the love of his life gone, it was only able to fight so long and so hard.

He passed on Friday night, July 4, 2014.

I feel my parents’ loss all the time, but especially on their birthdays and the anniversaries of their death.

(Mom’s birthday is on January 2).

Another anniversary of loss was on December 3rd.

Two years since Marlon died.

Marlon and I met in elementary school when we both in the second grade.

That was 1970.

Fifty years.

Fifty years of friendship that became a brotherhood.

He became my third brother, and I became his second.

We were extremely close. Laughing, joking, and fighting. Marlon once won an award for being the best “debater” in class. (Notice that the word debated is in quotes. The truth is that he was a first-class arguer).

We went through a lot together. My long childhood illness. His father’s death in eighth grade. His brother’s untimely death. Our marriages. Our divorces.

Then, his ongoing health issues.

The first organ transplant didn’t work.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to try a second.

He asked for my advice. I asked him if he thought his quality of life would improve if the second time was successful. He said he thought it would.

It didn’t work.

I was asked to officiate and give the eulogy at his funeral.

I’d eulogized my mom, dad, brother-in-law, mother-in-law, and a brother in the span of seven years.

Each one was difficult. It wasn’t any easier trying to memorialize someone you’ve known and loved since you were eight years old.

I did it. By God’s grace, I did it.

The problem with delivering eulogies and officiating the funerals of loved ones is that you have to put your grief on the shelf.

I couldn’t have done what I was asked to do if I had simultaneously processed my grief.

Because of delayed grief, or just because of who I am, the grief is still fresh.

Fresh as if they had died yesterday.

Grief is the opposite of linear. It curves, spins, and reverberates.

Its patterns are incomprehensible.

Grief is individual and hard to decipher.

I’m almost ten years into a new normal.

And it still isn’t normal.

I’m better at the moment, and I hope it lasts, but I know it’s likely to change.

I’m taking it one day at a time.

Some of you are doing the same.

Be patient with yourself.

Let people love on you.

Love yourself.

Don’t try to go it alone.

Ask for help.

And if you’re not going through a hard time these holidays, if you know someone that’s having a hard time, check on them.

And check on the people you love even if they seem okay.

Chances are some of them aren’t.