teriw Posted December 1, 2007 Share Posted December 1, 2007 Ever since spending Thanksgiving (and my birthday) with my family and allowing my friends to celebrate my birthday with me (I still have a "spa day" to look forward to next week!), I've come to a deeper realization of just how important it is to take the inescapable pain that is grief and pour it into those I love. Take the emptiness and try to fill someone else's heart up just a little bit, or make their day brighter (like Lily is always doing), or help them out when they need it. And allow others to do the same for me. My original idea was to "escape" the holidays, push them under the rug, and maybe...maybe bring them out again next year. Somehow I'm now wanting to embrace Christmas rather than hide. Bill absolutely loved Christmas. I want my house to look festive when my family comes. I want to cook a delicious dinner. I want my little great niece and nephew to walk into an inviting atmosphere of love and hope. I want to embrace those family and friends who have an even greater role in my life now (and I in theirs) than they did before Bill passed. I know that's what Bill would want. I know that to him, that would be the greatest way I could honor him. One of our traditions was to order pizza one night and watch two or three classic Christmas movies (A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life being our favorites). Often times this would be the same day we put up our Christmas tree and lights. I may pass on the pizza and I won't put up a full size tree, but I plan to watch those movies on my own one night. I want to experience the beautiful memory, and in a way, I need to experience the loss of that tradition -- at least the loss of "our" tradition. It will leave me in tears, or it will bring me comfort, or possibly both -- I won't know until I do it. In a weird way, I'm looking forward to it. Like I'll still be sharing it with him in some way. I read Bill's unfinished book the other day. Something I hadn't done since his service, when I was deciding which parts to read aloud. I was so struck by his sincerity, honesty, humor, and ability to be so damn eloquent and clever when his mind must have been filled with so many agonizing thoughts. He started his book right about the time we knew things weren't going our way. Oh, we always had hope, but the dark cloud loomed lower. As I read, I felt so proud of him. He so wanted to help others (and he did and still does). He was absolutely amazing, and I miss him ever so much. I also watched a home DVD of us on an absolutely idiotic adventure, off-roading in Death Valley (by ourselves). It was January 2006 for our 10th anniversary (I know, most normal people would take a cruise). But we made it out alive and the DVD is hilarious and it documents "us" in such a real way. It's only about 10 or 15 minutes long, but I LOVED watching it. I am so blessed to have had him in my life -- to HAVE him in my life, even if I can't touch his face again just yet. This grief process is weird -- every week is a new phase, and I never know what the next phase will bring. I just know I can't hide from it, so I might as well stare it in the face. Which is exactly what Bill did with his cancer. If he can be so brave as to do that, I can be brave too. Ah, yet another one of my convoluted posts... Hugs, Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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