We're entering a season of celebration and joy, a time for families to congregate around the table, to share food and swap stories about the past year's events. There are always kids playing (outside if you live in the south where it's 80 degrees through December), sports on the TV, and that one drunk uncle talking louder than everyone else. There are mountains of food just waiting to be consumed, and the smells and sounds of celebratory times fill the house.
The world paints such a perfect picture of this time of year. Stores have been playing Christmas music for weeks now (even though Thanksgiving JUST happened), and people are putting up lights and trees. The weather is cooling off, at least marginally, and spirits are lifting at the thought of good food, fun, and fellowship around a tree or table. Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, there are sounds and sights of the encroaching time – there is a focus on love, faith, charity. Even the kids behave better because Santa will be here soon.
But for many, this is just a show. For many, the holidays are a time of loss. For many, this time of year serves as a reminder of everything, or everyone, you no longer have. The celebratory sounds, smells and tastes become daggers of memories inflicting wounds that reach into the soul and destroy it. The regret, the loss, the pain — that ugly, black, oozing thing — rises to the surface and chokes that joyful façade time and time again. And every swift realization that the one you love is not there to laugh with you, cook with you, listen to the drunk uncle with you, opens a new wound and lets the pain in again. And to make the matter worse, we build this façade of food and cheer to hide these feelings from the rest of the world, to appear “normal” and jovial just like we’re supposed to. Surrounded by people, we still feel alone. It’s no wonder people dread the holidays.
Side Note to the Reader: Why is that? What is this need to conform and paste a happy little smile on our happy little faces and show only the happy little life side of things? Why do we hide behind forced smiles and Instagram or SnapChat filters, covering over whatever it is that hurts? What’s so wrong with the honesty of feelings? People will stare? To quote "The Princess Bride" : “Life is pain, Highness.” Shouldn’t we try to handle it together, especially in this time of sharing?
Honestly, what would happen is that we’d realize that we are not, in fact, alone. We would find that this grief, this maddening loneliness and pain, this loss, is not as unique as we originally thought. We’d see that others hurt, too, and that in and of itself serves as a balm for the stinging tears and memories.
Not to say that this heals all wounds, because not even time can do that (and shame on the philosophers that preach it). The pain doesn’t truly fade, not if it’s real. Our ability to cope and function increases and improves. We still hurt, but we make it a part of us and move forward. Fellowship helps. Faith helps. And sharing helps. And the sharing of stories and memories of good times is better medicine than anything, especially during a time of year when loss is so prevalent.
So I urge you, if you hurt, to share. Reach out, because chances are you’re not alone, and your feelings matter. You matter. Turn this time of year into more than quiet, solitary, suffering. Let the holidays become a time of remembrance, a time of endearing stories of the one or ones you miss. There is comfort to be had in this remembrance; find it for yourself, and share it with others. After all, “’tis the season.”
