Grief at Christmas

BRENDAN MCMANUS SJ and JIM DEEDS :: Getting through Grief at Christmas
OUR CONTEXT, OUR BEREAVEMENTS
Brendan: My mother died in February last year at the age of 89, but it feels like yesterday and it’s a huge hole in my life, a constant ache of loss. She had been suffering from dementia and fortunately medication slowed the disease, and I had a precious two years being with her at weekends in her declining health. During Covid I had 6 months of living close to her and being her carer, it’s the one thing that comes back to me now, those consoling memories of drives in the country, conversations, and that ‘reversal of roles’ that comes with age. Not that this sweetness of memory makes anything easier, rather it accentuates the loss and leaves a vacuum of presence and meaning that is hard to fill. Still, reverencing those memories is the important work of grief, recalling the love that was present then and which though absent now is still true spiritually in God; love never dies. Being a priest means that without a partner or significant other, your mother becomes the central feminine role in your life and there is a closeness and intimacy that is so hard to replace once it is gone. Christmas is a doubly poignant time of loss and not having that ‘centre’ or ‘home’ to go to; it heightens a sense of being ‘orphaned’ (I lost my father many years ago) and adrift.
Jim: My father died on May 15th this year. He died of cancer in his lungs, complicated by COPD and heart disease. He was 82 years of age. I remember that on his 60th birthday he told me that he never thought he would have made it to that age. You see, he had been ill for an exceptionally long time. In fact, he first took ill with heart disease when I was 17 years of age, in 1988. Soon after, he suffered several heart attacks that forced him into retirement. Incredibly, he was still in his forties. And so, for my entire adult life, my dad had been ill. Not only that, but he had also fought and scraped his way through many illnesses – some of them life threatening. He earned the nickname ‘Lazarus’ because it looked like every time it looked like his time was up, he would somehow ‘rise’ back to life.
When he became seriously ill these past 18 months or so, it became clear that he would not beat it this time. He knew it himself, and he and I shared some very profound conversations about life, death, and the afterlife. His death, though not a surprise, came as a shock in some ways, and this year has been one in which I have only begun to grieve his loss. Into this immature grieving process comes the Christmas period, loud and bright with its carols and lights. In a way, it was the advent of Christmas that kickstarted my grieving process. Its joy and liveliness somehow helped me to see the hole in my heart.
CHRISTMAS GRIEF
We know that Christmas can be a challenging time for others who are grieving too. We want to offer our top ten tips for grieving at Christmas. We offer them with humility, recognising that they are not a prescriptive list that will ‘work,’ rather as a way to express our own grief and find what works for us. Our prayerful hope is that they might, in some small way even, help others.
1. There is no timetable for grief so even though it’s party season for many, it’s ok to feel grief more keenly, you can only be where you are. Many people have expectations that you will ‘get over it’, that this will last a short number of weeks and that you should be able to put it aside for something like Christmas. This is obviously unhelpful and unrealistic. While Christmas can often mean appreciating that others are celebrating, it’s important to honour your own reality and your own grief. Some simple ritual can help, like praying at the manager or crib, and realising that all are welcome there regardless of having to feel happy; it’s ok to be sad and bereaved, God understands this too.
2. ‘Christ is born into the mess’. The Christmas story is about a baby born in less-than-ideal circumstances, in a cowshed, amidst the straw and the mess. Therein lies our comfort; God is present to the mess and grief of our lives. It is miraculous and a thing of wonder, a ‘silent and holy night’. No matter who you are or what loss you’re facing, Christ is with you. God is present in the experience and lived reality of our lives, none more so than in grief; God is born into our loss and suffering even if you don’t feel it.
3. The central image of Christmas is light in the darkness. Grief helps us to be tuned to our own darkness and that of the world, in order to appreciate the wonder of light that Christ brings. It transforms everything and gives us new sight. Let’s stop pretending and do an honest stocktake of our light and shadows; grief can be an invitation to real prayer that will transform our lives with purpose and direction. There is always a new beginning, and a new start offered, make sure you take it. Prayer is being ‘real’ with God, transforming bereft and empty lives and making good choices.
4. St Ignatius recommends keeping ourselves in balance. Christmas is often a fraught time with plenty of excess and tension, never mind grief, so things can easily blow up or get out of control. It is just another day, however, and our job is to keep ourselves in good shape as much as possible, appreciating the gifts of family, friends, meals, drinks, movies, etc., but avoiding the downsides of these. It can help to recognise that we are vulnerable and hurting, and take measures to protect oursleves. Often a visit to the grave or the church can help to acknowledge where your heart is and though you might be out of tune with others celebrating, at least you can survive it!
5. Remember that Christ has a message for you specifically at this time. St Ignatius says that God is always trying to reach us, has a very specific message for us and is present in unexpected ways. What could God be saying to you this Christmas even in the midst of grief? What is the Good News you have to listen for? Where are the spaces in your life for prayer and reflection? What would it mean to listen, engage and live differently from love this Christmas? Make it real, just do it. Remember that God communicates with each of us directly and individually, more so in times of grief and suffering.
6. Cherish the memories of your loved one as a Christmas present. Many people in the initial stages of grief, and also as time goes on, find it hard to accept Christmas cards or presents that come without the name of the one who has died. This is entirely understandable. There is no need to put ourselves in line for more sadness than we can bear. But it strikes me that Christmas is a time of gifting and receiving. And it does us good to receive gifts. It reminds us that we are loved. Closing our eyes and recalling comforting memories of our loved one can, be a gift this Christmas. If this feels like it would be good for you, why not take some time each day over the Christmas period and spend time receiving the gift of precious memories. You could write in a journal about how these memories console your heart.
7. Don’t feel angry with those who are celebrating. This might seem harsh, but it is a common experience for us in our grief to think that any celebration going on around us feels wrong. It can feel like an affront to our loved one, and one reaction can be anger. Anger is a powerful feeling and, of course, is not wrong or to be ashamed of. But we could be aware of not curtailing too much the celebrations of others at Christmas. Remember, they will have their times of grief, and the flip side is that you will have your times of celebrating again (even if that feels very remote at this time). Take consolation in your ability to feel empathy for others in their joy as well as yourself in your grief.
8. Allow the Christ-child to console you. We know several people recently who had the double experience of losing someone close to them, and then a close family member giving birth. I have seen how this experience both highlighted in stark relief the grief they were suffering, and at the same time brought deep consolation in the love of the new child. Even if your family will not have a new-born child this Christmas, the Christ-child is born anew to us each year. Take some time with the image of Jesus in the manger. Allow yourself to love this little child and then allow this child to love you. A prayer like, ‘O, Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in You’ would be a fitting one as we walk the uncertain path of grief.
9. Allow Mary to accompany you in your grief, as a companion. Mary knew grief. She lost her husband. Her cousin’s child, John the Baptist, was jailed and killed. And, of course, she knew the pain of losing a child. When we feel alone in our grief, we could take some time in prayer and reflect on Mary as a companion on our journey. We could speak to her and ask her to hold us in the difficult moments. I have always found John Michael Talbot’s song of the Magnificat, Holy is His Name, to be a source of immense comfort. Maybe consider listening to it this Christmas time.
10. Even though it’s Christmas, don’t forget Easter. Maybe because Christmas is not only a religious holiday, but a societal holiday as well, it has become the high point of the Church year for many people. The glitz and glamour of the lights and decorations, even though they stand in contrast to the simplicity of the first Nativity, make Christmas stand out. And well it may. The incarnation of God with us in the person of Jesus is astounding. But the true high point in the Church year is Easter. The resurrection of Jesus, defeating death and promising eternal life, is where out real hope lies. Let us remember this Christmas that, even in the midst of our grief, we have a reunion to look forward to in the fullness of time. Our loved one’s death is not the ned of the story; it is simply the end of a chapter. We will meet again. Hold on to this promise this Christmas.