My Journal of Heartache...and Hope

Our son Max was born on May 4, 2011. Life was busy, happy, and perfect for 37 days. Then, it wasn't.
A look back at our life before Max, with Max, and what comes after...

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

November 20, 2011--Remembering Max


This used to be my favorite time of the year.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, and my birthday are all quickly approaching, and I love all three of those occasions for different reasons.  This year, obviously, things are different.  I am still looking forward to the holidays, but I’m also dreading them.  Is there really a way to prepare for the holidays when such an important, celebrated piece of them is missing?  I’m doing my best though.  I’m trying to come up with new traditions to honor Max, and I’m trying to prepare for what will be a totally new experience by reminding myself that I really can’t prepare for what the holidays will be like.  I just have to take it in stride and allow myself to react however I do.  That’s pretty much my new motto on life in general, so maybe the holidays won’t be so bad after all.  One thing I have learned is that the anticipation of a day or event is often much worse than the day itself, so bear with me if I’m a little high-strung over the next few weeks!

We recently attended a how-to workshop aimed at coping with the holidays after losing a loved one.  We learned a lot, but mostly we got affirmation that what we are feeling is normal and acceptable and okay and even expected.  There is no rule that says that we have to do things as we always have and as if we haven’t experienced a horrific loss that still hangs over us, even in times of happiness and togetherness.  In fact, we shouldn’t do things as we always have.  We can throw out whatever old traditions we want to, and we can start whichever new ones we choose to.  There aren’t a whole lot of old traditions that we really want to do away with, but there are lots of new ones that we want to start.  I hope that we’ll find some healing and happiness in them, and I really hope that we find some that work for us in the long-term.  We are going to need some help with some of them, so please feel free to offer your suggestions or input on the “new traditions” described below.

One of the “new” traditions, and perhaps the biggest one, is that we will be hosting Thanksgiving this year.  We usually go to Scott’s parents’ for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but this year I don’t think either of us is up for a lot of traveling during the holidays.  There is something about being home that eases my mind.  I thought that this might be an abnormal or maybe harmful feeling, so I was relieved and surprised to hear that all of the families in my “Child Loss” support group feel the same way.  Being away from home is a little like being further away from Max; being here feels like I’m closer to him.  That’s what I need lately, so I’m happy that Scott’s family members were all willing to travel here for Thanksgiving.  Being here for Thanksgiving also allows me to start many of the “new” traditions that I’m really excited about.  It won’t be just family here for our “Thanksgiving dinner” on Saturday; we will also be surrounded by some of our friends who have been sources of strength and support for us since losing Max.  Basically, we’ll be surrounded by many of the people who we are truly thankful for this year.  I can’t think of a better way to spend Thanksgiving this year.

Having Thanksgiving here means that we have the freedom to start some of the other traditions that we need some help with.  We want everyone, all 20+ of our guests, to help us decorate our Christmas tree.  I had also planned on having Ethan make an ornament for Max, and I planned on doing this every year.  Now, I wonder if all of our friends and family would like to join Ethan and make their own ornaments for Max.  I never pictured my house being host to a crafting party, but my life has pretty much become what I never pictured it to be, so why not add crafting to the mix?!?!  I’m also working on getting a Christmas tree topper made for our tree.  I don’t really have a clear picture of it, but it needs to be sturdy and made to last.  I want it to have a picture of Max on it, and I want it to be our Christmas tree topper for the rest of our lives.  I picture us placing the topper on the tree year after year while remembering the beautiful presence that Max was in our lives, the important legacy that he has left us, and of course, the hole that has been left in all of our hearts by his death.

One of the “new” traditions that I’ve been working on today is creating centerpieces to use at Thanksgiving.  After Max’s funeral, I began saving a flower or two from each of the floral arrangements that were sent to us.  At the time, I wasn’t sure why I was saving them; I just knew that I couldn’t bear to throw them all away.  The idea for the centerpieces slowly came to me when I thought about what to do with the dried flowers.  Today, I got all of them out and sprayed the flowers with hairspray (I learned about this on the internet, not from some innate crafting ability).  I’ve picked out a few vases that will work, and I’ll be on the hunt for some more.  My plan is to create three centerpieces, one for each of the tables that we’ll have at Thanksgiving, using the dried flowers that people sent to express their sympathies after Max died.  I even saved the ribbons that came in and on some of the arrangements, so those will add a nice touch.  I guess the purpose of the centerpieces is to remind us of what is missing, but also to remind us of the parts of Max that still surround us.

I’m sure that I’m forgetting some of the traditions, but two of my favorites that I do remember involve gifts from Max and adopting an angel.  We plan to give Ethan one special gift from Max this year at Christmas, and our hope is that Max will give Ethan a present every year.  We are also going to adopt an angel who is the same age that Max would be, so this year we will be adopting a 7-month-old baby.  We will shop as a family to buy him gifts that we would have gotten for Max, and we’ll give those gifts to our angel in Max’s memory.  We plan to do this every year, getting gifts for an older child each year.  I don’t know what we’ll do when we reach the Christmas when Max would have been 18 or 35 or 50, but we’ll figure something out.  We know that shopping each year for this angel will probably be difficult, and sometimes we might not want to do it, but we also both agree that this is important and maybe even necessary for us to do in Max’s memory.

So, am I looking forward to the holidays?  Yes.  Am I sure about that?  No.  The best I can do is to try it out and see what happens.  I do have a lot to look forward to, but I’m also missing a lot.  “Bittersweet” is a term that has come to define how I feel about a lot of things in my life, but it isn’t all bad.  Along with pain and loss comes understanding and personal growth and clarity.  I’m coming to accept those things and to see the beauty in them.  The holidays will surely bring tears and stress and frustration, but they also give us an opportunity to do something that we, as a grieving family, need so badly:  to remember Max in meaningful ways.  I guess this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that we will be able to that with the people who mean the most to us.  

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