Deathversaires and the Holidays
*this was a blog post I wrote back at Thanksgiving time for C&C Resources for Life which I felt would be relevant to share for the upcoming holiday season,
Deathversary: The anniversary of a loss.
21 years have passed and I know the date better than my own birthday, yet somehow, every year, it sneaks up on me. I feel a heaviness and restlessness inside of me. It distracts me, keeps me feeling out of sorts and oddly disconnected from myself, despite my attempts to carry on with my days while still exploring and trying to locate the source of this discomfort. After all, I’m a counsellor, that’s what I do. And then, the calendar date will cross my path and I’m reminded. It’s October 8th. It’s the worst day of my life. The dad my dad took his life. The deathversary is here.
Regardless of the healing I’ve gained on this grief journey I’ve travelled, there are always pieces of this tragedy that resonate deep in my soul, beyond my awareness, until they become my awareness. Pieces that warrant the memories and love of my father and the impact that his life and death has had on my life and on those whose lives I touch. I no longer consider this a wave of crashing grief, but rather a beautiful reminder to be kind with myself, to take a pause and feel everything that comes up for me on this day. Perhaps it’s particular memories of his life, or even of his death, and often it is a reflection of where this journey has lead me to now. I pay honour and tribute to each and every thought and feeling that arises within me, without dwelling on any of them, but rather letting them run through me. I make space for this. Space for myself. Space for my grief. Space for my growth. Space for my pain. And space for my love. I just make space and sit in it whenever I need to. Sometimes it’s heavy. Sometimes it’s amongst whatever is happening in my day because life doesn’t stop for our grief. But I make sure I consistently remind myself to make space for this day. This experience. This very real experience that lives on in me 21 years later. I don’t let anyone tell me that this day doesn’t exist for me, even after this long, because I’m reminded by the depths of my soul, by the dull, aching headache and tightness in my chest that this day is very real for me.
October 8th usually falls on Thanksgiving weekend. In 1999, it was the Friday before the long weekend. This used to hold a very conflicting presence in my calendar. How was I to “celebrate” a weekend of giving thanks if it also encompassed the worst day of my life. In the raw years of my grief I felt guilty for being thankful. I went through the motions of the weekend, enjoyed the pies as I knew me and my dad would, and just sort of existed amongst this time. As the years went on and my healing progressed I began to allow myself to hold both thankfulness and grief simultaneously. Holding space for contradictory feelings and emotions is something that many grievers often have difficulty with. Joy and sorrow. Happiness and sadness. Anger and peace. It can be very conflicting to make space for both, but I encourage you to try. Have you ever shed tears of happiness? It’s so purely blissful isn’t it? Well, I promise you the same beauty can come when we allow our less comfortable emotions to share the same stage with us. Validating our pain, our existence and our humanness can actually bring us to life.
October 8th will always be imprinted on my soul, as it should be. This was a pivotal day and event in my life that has guided much of my life’s path, both into the darkness and into the light. I will honour it as such and when I make space to do so, I’m reminded that this too shall pass. Shortly thereafter, the discomfort (which I now know is grief) subsides, the clarity forges through and I carry forward a little stronger and wiser, until next year when I commit to make space it for it however it arises again.
I am grateful for where my grief journey has lead me. I am so honoured to be doing the work I am doing and so humbled to walk alongside the grief journeys of so many others. This is what I consider my gift of grief.
If you’re grieving through the holidays, consider these things:
· Some people choose to remain with traditional activities while others choose to do something entirely different than they did with their loved ones to avoid any triggers that they might not feel ready to experience. There is not “right way,” just do what feels right for you on this day.
· Holidays often bring big expectations and heightened emotions for many. This energy can be overwhelming, even at the best of times, so if you’re also grieving make space for yourself to be able to regulate this. Perhaps balancing some alone time for reflection with busy family gatherings, or vice versa, if you are fairly isolated, finding a way to connect with others.
· Remember that you just need to get through this holiday, not create a whole new existence for coming holidays. Your grief will transform and evolve and you can think about your needs and your desires for the next holiday when it comes. Be present with yourself NOW. Make space for yourself NOW.
· Holidays are especially different this year in our pandemic and many may be grieving by distance. We have so many ways to connect online now I encourage you to reach out. Perhaps you can host a family and friend virtual gathering (via Facetime, zoom, Facebook messenger, etc.). This past weekend I was grateful to have been able to witness my uncle’s Celebration of Life in Florida, USA because it was live streamed and recorded. Prior to this pandemic, I likely never would have had this opportunity and it was so incredible to feel like I got to share in this tribute, to see my family and to hear the wonderful stories shared about him. It was truly a beautiful comfort in my grief. I encourage you all to find a new way to reach out in these isolated times, now more than ever.
· Be kind to yourself. Ask for help. Listen to your needs.
Thank you for letting me share my journey and my wisdoms with you. I wish you all a holiday season full of gratitude, love, health and kindness amongst any of the sorrows that might sit at the table with you.
Written by Jolene Dawn Lindsey
Jolene Dawn Counselling & Consulting