By Diana Doyle –

Holiday times are an obstacle course of emotions for anyone trapped in grief.  For me, having lost a daughter, sister and mother in recent years, the feelings of sadness and heartache usually start as soon as the stores fill their aisles with sparkling decorations, fancy costumes or cards.  To anyone who has lost a loved one, these times are a strange blend of sorrow and joy.

We only had five Christmases with our daughter Savannah, which will never be enough. Nor will the New Year’s Eves we spent with my sister and our children and families.

And then there’s Mother’s Day.  How I hate Mother’s Day now!  I can’t call my adored mom to tell her how much I love her as I always did; my sister’s youngest two kids never even knew a mother’s love; and, even though I still have our precious daughter, Dempsey, Mother’s Day doesn’t seem complete for me if Savannah isn’t there to throw her arms around my neck and whisper in my ear that I am the best mom in the world.  Each holiday presents its own raft of emotional challenges-and sometimes, nothing helps soften the blows.

At these times, I find it best to give in to the tears.  I mourn my losses and allow myself to feel sad.  Letting tears flow is nature’s way of healing and I always feel better and stronger the next day.  Sometimes, I set the phone on answer mode and am kind to myself by buying chocolate or junky magazines, into which I can escape the real world for a while.

On the year’s “special” days, I know I won’t be surrounded by those I’ve lost-not in the physical sense, anyway.  But I can choose to remember the joy of past holidays with them and I can create happy new memories with remaining family and friends that will help me move forward.

This year, we’ll celebrate our Christmas holiday by hanging photos of those who are gone on our tree.  We’ll light a special candle for each one who’s missing and clink our glasses in toasts as we reminisce about them.  Some people I’ve spoken with about this find giving a gift to a needy child helps to fill the gap.  Or they volunteer some of their spare time to charitable organizations.

On our mantle, overlooking the dining room table on every holiday we celebrate, is the last photo of us as a complete family.  It takes me back to the time before we were untouched by loss, the time when we thought we’d live forever.  Everyone is smiling and so full of life-my sister pregnant with twins, Mom laughing as her wig slides sideways, and our angel Savannah showing off her frilly outfit, perched on my lap. When I look at that photo and recall that moment, I can relive the happy memory and smile.  I will forever be grateful having had that time.

So, during the various holidays of my year, I reflect on the past and do my best to look at what I do have instead of what I don’t.  I make a point to tell all I care about who are still in my life, how special they are to me.  I have the strongest feeling that those who have died are all watching, happy to know that I can go on without them and make the most of what life I’ve been given.

Reach Diana Doyle at savvydoyle@hotmail.com

Tags: grief, hope, Multiple Deaths