December is fast approaching and that means so is Christmas.
Shops full of decorations and gifts, festive music filling the air, marketing campaigns depicting the illusion of happy and complete families. My inbox and instagram feed fills with gifting ideas and promotions. The radio plays the festive music in the car too. I stay away from the shops as much as I can, I switch the radio station, delete the emails and scroll quickly on instagram but the reality is Christmas is everywhere, impossible to escape. And I am not ready.
The holiday that brings a warmth and a sense of family togetherness, serves to magnify the loss of my son. The seven year old who would be excited for Santa is missed ineffably and Christmas undeniably perpetuates some of the most difficult feelings for those of us grieving and that means our aching hearts are having to do some the hardest work.
I hide quite a lot, I know it isn’t always helpful, well sometimes it is, but it can also serve to fuel my sadness, questions like ‘what are you doing for Christmas?’, ‘are you going away?’, ’have you started your shopping yet?’ can feel hard to navigate when mostly I just want to ignore it all. The hiding / not hiding thing can be a hard balance to get right. But I know it’s best to fight against the instinct to completely hide away during this loud and jolly season. Time can’t make missing my son easier but it is teaching me when I have to fight against this urge to hide, because the sadder thing is that it can seep into everything, it can steal the life out of me. But if I look, there is worthwhile connection be found, in the everyday mundanity of life, in everyday conversations, and in those deep conversations too where I can say his name “Ruairí” with ease, those places I can breathe when the world feels too much.
It’s rare to be asked about my little one missing, my little one whose stocking will still be hung up alongside his brother’s, whose face will be lit up in lights in a photo frame, my little one I won’t be buying gifts for when I do my shopping, who I didn’t book a seat for on the plane to go on holidays. Now he travels with me in my heart only and that has to be enough because it’s all I have. Of course I’ll shop and go on holidays and there will be much warmth and laughter in time spent with family and friends. But if I could choose I’d skip the rest of this noisy world right now.
If you know someone walking this earth without their child, their loved one, don’t be afraid to include them in your conversations, it’s always better when someone else remembers our loved ones with us, a simple acknowledgement can help us feel less alone in our sadness.
And if you too are walking this earth without someone you love, I hope you can find places to breathe too.