On the evening I type this, the nip in the October air is a reminder that the major holidays are just around the corner.
Halloween decorations have been in the stores since July and Christmas décor even as early as August. For those of us who are bereaved parents, siblings and/or grandparents this means the sooner they are “in our face” the longer we have the constant reminders that we will be facing the holidays without our child.
Whether it is your first Halloween following your child’s death or years down the road, such as in my situation, the holiday season stirs the emotions bringing varying levels of sadness, anxiety and sometimes even anger. With Halloween, there is the sorrow of no longer having to find that perfect costume or witnessing the delight in your child’s eyes when you found just the right one.
Many parents find Halloween a particularly hard one to get through. In the past, I always thought of it as innocuous enough; there
were the costume parties with bobbing for apple, children excitedly dashing door-to-door trick-or-treating, pumpkin carving, and
the occasional harmless prank.
However, after my daughter Nina died, I became acutely aware of things that I never gave a second thought to in the past. For instance, my former neighbor made her whole front yard into a graveyard scene, complete with fake headstones that said R.I.P. with scary or silly epitaphs as well as hideous ghosts coming out of the earth with bony bloody fingers.
Before Nina died, I too found the cemetery “creepy”, but now I look at it differently, even with a sort of reverence, and no longer have a problem going out to my daughter’s grave-site, even in the middle of the night. I find the solitude of the historic countryside graveyard where she is buried peaceful and dignified and worthy of respect, and I was hurt by what I felt was apparent ridicule and destain for the final resting place of our loved ones’ physical bodies to the point of tears and anger.
Moreover, some of the masks and costumes portrayed faces of death in a way that I found highly offensive, especially since I knew many who lost their children to some of the means depicted. I took it personally and didn’t appreciate what I perceived as a mockery of death.
Though I still don’t pretend to understand the allure of the above-mentioned Halloween depictions, they aren’t as painful to me as
they were the first few years after Nina died. During the early grief years, we become very hypersensitive to our surroundings
and more keenly conscious of anything related to death.
It is pretty hard to look past the general non-bereaved population’s
seeming nonchalance about something we take so personally. Though we wish there was more empathy and understanding, we also
know all too well that they cannot truly sympathize unless they also have walked in our shoes.
It is easy to forget that we too, before our children’s deaths, may have shown the same indifference. I believe that we would like to think that we wouldn’t have been so callous because we now personally know how much this hurts those affected; however, before we lost our “innocence”, truth be told, we probably didn’t give any of it much thought. That being said, oftentimes it is still easier said than done.
On this 10th Halloween without Nina, I pretty much ignore all the ghoulishness surrounding this time of year. If I do find I am
having difficulty, I try very hard to focus on positive and precious memories of Halloween’s past, such as her belated
birthday/Halloween party where our basement became a makeshift haunted house where giggling blindfolded costumed witches and
princesses plunged their hands into bowls full of peeled grape “eyeballs” and wet macaroni “brains” to the shrieks of “Yuck!”, or the
photo taken of Nina on her last Halloween.
No longer of trick-or-treat age, she stayed home to pass out the candy and carve an awesome Jack-O-Lantern that she is pictured proudly along side, with her ever-present smile and that wonderful twinkle in her brown eyes. Or the photos I have of her in her costumes over the years from Care Bear to Punk Rocker.
Because of my photographs and precious memories, I also realize that I was one of the “lucky” ones in that regard. There are those whose
children died before they ever had the opportunity to create memories, there is the sorrow that they were never able to experience even one holiday with that child, yet alone several, and that saddens me very much.
For those with a missing trick-or-treater this Halloween or the conspicuous empty chair at Thanksgiving dinner this year, the first
ones are the most difficult. Though I find they are easier to bear as time goes on, you never really forget the absence from the
family holiday gatherings of one loved so much, nor do you want to forget, really.
Please try to remember that this roller-coaster grief ride each year brings different feelings. It is important that you just allow those feelings and let them happen, Try not to be waylaid by other’s expectations of you. Trust your instincts and go with them. Truly, only you know what you can or cannot handle.Tags: signs and connections
Thanks for this article, Cathy. My Halloween memories (and they are comforting) are of my daughter bringing her twins to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for treats. My granddaughter commented, “You give us more because you know us, right?” I told her she was right and then my daughter took them trick or treating at the local mall. The comforting part of this memory is watching my daughter enjoy her children. I am blessed to have this memory.