Merry Christmas

When I was growing up Christmas was extremely important in so many ways. I was raised in a strong Catholic home. Everything about the ceremonies, and the glory of the day meant so much. With six siblings, family was strong. I have full memories of gatherings that grew bigger as the family grew, through marriage and the next generation, and then another generation.

I held a deep love for everything about Christmas and took that with me into my life with CJ. I decorated the house extensively. My Christmas village took up a whole room. :) As well, I continued my connection with the holiness of the holiday, loving the message of peace and goodwill.

I have amazing memories of CJ. Opening presents in wonderment, singing in concerts at school, playing a shepherd in the nativity play. And lots and lots of family get together.

I always loved saying Merry Christmas. It felt like a connection to say it to others and hear it back. I still remember it would bring a smile to my face, to bring a smile to others with those simple words.

The first Christmas after I lost him was a blur of pain. I know that friends came and held me, many many reached out, but I was lost. There was no peace, there was no joy. I just wanted the day to be over, the pain to go away. I felt like the promise of the day I grew up with, was just a hallow empty story now. I couldn’t say Merry Christmas, nothing was Merry. The words invoked pain now, not joy.

The next two years I went away. To sunshine and warmth, as different as I could get to a Canadian Christmas season. I had some magical moments those two years. I was with family and friends both years and they helped to blunt the pain and keep me in the moment. And I found CJ. In the beauty of a rainbow, in the waves of the ocean, in the simple act of sitting by a pond, and in the smile and memories shared of him. And I still would shy away from saying Merry Christmas.

This year I was all set to run away again. When my plans had to change and I stayed here.

And something shifted in me, something changed In how I felt. Over these years, I have learned to live with the pain. I wanted to find a way back to Christmas, in-spite of the pain.

I may deny my religious heritage, but I think my faith is buried, too hard to reach in the face of my loss. I did feel a glimmer this year, an echo of the way I felt as a child. Someday, I may find my way back.

I spent time with family and laughed with them, making new memories, and bringing CJ in by remembering him. The pain wasn’t as harsh, more blunted. I wished so much he was here, but I have absolute faith he was here in spirit.

Then Christmas Day came and I honoured him in my way. By posting pictures on social media, and sharing the memories.

As others looked at my pictures, and reached out to say “Merry Christmas”, I felt this incredible connection. Saying Merry Christmas took on another meaning. It was like a loop, linking them to me to CJ to them and back. When they said “Merry Christmas” I heard “we remember CJ”., “We loved CJ”, And we love you. When they said Merry Christmas I felt the universe connected between here and CJ in the after world.

So I can say, with a little pain, and a little sadness, but with a new meaning. Merry Christmas