Six years ago on Halloween, my husband had been dead for just six days. The week following his death was filled with me making the long-distance arrangements for his funeral and then for the local Memorial Service at his school, which was held on Nov. 11th. I continued through the week as best I could, even attending the boys' school Halloween parties. As we left the school entrance after the festivities, I saw a number of fathers entering the building or waiting outside for their children to come out. I was overcome with a realization of profound sadness that my sons would never have such interaction with their father again. It was wrenching and the first time that I really understood what this loss would be like, what we would be forever more missing. Those dads had taken off early from work to take their children Trick or Treating. The excitement and family pride I saw displayed between these dads and their children pulled at my heartstrings.
Later, in the evening I continued the ritual I had with my husband by taking the boys out for Trick or Treating in my parent's neighborhood but my heart really wasn't in it and it was terribly painful to be walking the dark, cold streets without him. But as I did so, I thought of him and kept up the effort for the sake of my sons.
When we got home, I stayed up until 3:00 a.m. putting together photo collage boards to bring to the funeral the next day, Nov. 1. My family insisted on driving us and we all drove in a group caravan style out-of-state. I won't dwell on the funeral details since they involve painful elements from the fact that my husband had a first wife who pulled her own little show. I did the best to ignore such nonsense. In the end, we all got through it and my husband received a fitting local tribute in his hometown. That was his due and it was my duty to hold it together and act dignified.
Afterward, we stopped at a local truckstop for dinner and since it was October, they had some Octoberfest specials. I was struck by the surreal quality of this dinner. Everyone enjoying brats and beer, laughing away. I held my wine glass up and made a toast to my husband.
I cannot help but be struck by the similarities in our stories. Reading this brought me back to that week in my own life. My husband died 2 days before Thanksgiving, 5 days before my birthday and 7 days before our oldest sons 11th birthday. Add to that because of the suddenness of his death an autopsy was required which was delayed because of the holiday. We went through the motions of the holiday, for the kids sake and the day after the funeral we had our oldest's birthday celebration. Surreal? Sitting around the Thanksgiving table giving thanks for what??? In the end I gave thanks for having unconditional love, a love that sustains me to this day. Somehow, the holidays still are not the same. I wonder if that will ever change even though I try so hard to make them what they are supposed to be?
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your life and your story. It makes mine more bearable.
I think you raise a very good question as to whether or not the Thanksgiving holidays will ever be the same or your feelings about them will change. I guess I think that we can never go back to the ways things were so our perceptions of the holidays will never be the same. How can they be?
ReplyDeleteBut maybe this is not such a bad thing. Our holidays may be more bittersweet than how others are celebrating. But at the same time we have a deeper understanding of what is most important in life.
I was really struck by your words "even though I try so hard to make them what they are supposed to be." We try to celebrate some ideal that is impossible to attain even in the best of circumstances (we do this a lot for the kids). I hope we all stop striving toward some unattainable image and just celebrate what is meaningful to us. We can't forget what happened and we shouldn't have to. I guess it is like everything else in life - a balance between past and present; between finding joy and honoring our loved ones. Some of us will have holidays tinged with sadness. But as you mentioned, the unconditional love you had that still sustains you will hopefully counter some of that sadness with peace and comfort.
My husband died on July 2, and that Fourth of July and the two following it were just rotten. I couldn't see fireworks or smell that gunpowder scent without feeling sick. This year was a lot better, but I don't know that I'll ever really throw myself into celebrating that particular day again.
ReplyDeleteRegarding holidays being what they're "supposed to be," year before last my daughter had a cold on Thanksgiving, so instead of going to the big family dinner, we ate grilled cheese sandwiches at Denny's and then saw a movie in an almost deserted cinema. It was such a relief not to be around everyone (the family is all my husband's, and at the time it still felt weird to be with them and not with him), and at the end of the day, my daughter said "That was the best Thanksgiving ever. Can we do it for Christmas too?" I think sometimes the traditions aren't nearly as meaningful in reality as they are in our heads.
Thanks for sharing your personal experiences surrounding the Fourth of July. Some of us don't have the strength to break away from family traditions. Your story about going to Denny's and then a movie is inspiring to those of us who need to take such steps. We can gain courage from hearing about the successes of others like yourself. I love it when something unexpected and simple turns out so well. Who would have thought a grilled cheese on Thanksgiving would make a little girl so thrilled?
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