Well, it’s that time of year, Christmas is upon us. For many people, it means white-knuckling your way through because the festive, family Christmas everyone on social media is posting about seems out of our reach. We see it, we long for the time we wanted it, but the shiny, sparkle of it is no longer there. For some in the survivor lane, they are still in the “year of firsts”. For some, like me, it’s the second Christmas that feels tarnished. For others, they are three years and beyond and hopefully have found a rhythm to getting through the holidays and for the very lucky, they have allowed themselves to have authentic joy during this season.
For those close to me, they know the struggle I have had the past several months. I personally have found year two to be very difficult. Not in the shock and numbness of year one, but in the reality of feeling the pain and sorrow of losing the love of your life. This is the year I have been forced to really take a good look at where I have been, where I stand today and what I envision my future to look like. That is part of the difficulty. Envisioning MY future and not OUR future. I spent 32 years dreaming and planning of a future with Tom. So it makes perfect sense that thinking of my future without him is so difficult. Even planning for this second Christmas without Tom has been hard. I went in to this month with the motto fake it till I make it. I put up the Christmas tree, pulled out the decorations, had lights put up outside but I just don’t feel it yet and I am okay if I don’t. Not one Christmas song has played in our home or in the car. I use to love listening to Christmas music, especially on Christmas Eve when Tom and I would drive around with it on the radio as we looked at Christmas lights. I miss that tradition. Trey doesn’t enjoy stuff like that, so getting him in the car is a hard no. I don’t want to do it by myself, I would just ugly cry the whole time. This is what I mean by a White-Knuckled Christmas, just getting by the best you can. Doing or not doing traditions.
So how am I doing is the question I have been asking myself every morning this month. Some mornings I just tell myself to put one foot in front of the other, other mornings I flip on all lights, pull up a playlist (not Christmas music of course) and listen to music loud! Some days I can sing and dance, some I just listen. Is it still hard. Yes. Am I getting through? Also yes. Maybe not in the cheerful way of pre ALS, but I am getting through. I have discovered and re-discovered things that help me get by. I have two very close friends, who oddly enough both have the same middle nickname, “fucking”. I know you are like, WHAT???? Think of it like Lara “fucking” Garey…maybe not a middle name, more like an amazing description of these two women. One I have known for 22 years, the other only since the ALS journey. Both have helped me tremendously by listening and offering love and guidance. They both inspire me and help me to look at what I have and not what I don’t. I have discovered I am a storyteller. This blog and a podcast I do now have helped me along this journey in ways I would have never dreamed. I have connected with an online group of people that have all loved and lost spouses from ALS. I have found listening to the journey of others and how they handle situations has been helpful. Being able to talk to other widows/widowers has allowed me to process the little things that come up, some of which would be hard for those that have never experienced the loss of spouse to understand, but they do. Even things I am slightly embarrassed to talk about (and at this point I am sure you are like, seriously Lara, you embarrassed, but yes) I can ask without feeling judged. In fact, they are usually very quick about saying, yes, I feel the same way. Honestly, it helps me to be hopeful and to see I am not as crazy as I feel these strange feelings or work through finding a safe space for my past as I look to my future.
It is because of all these people, and so many more in my ALS and veteran caregiver community that I can say while I am white-knuckling my way through Christmas, they have all helped me ease into it this year and little easier than last year. I hope that if you are in your first year of grieving your love, or even acutely aware that you will be in the not-so-distant future, you know there is hope. Setting your expectations in reality helps. Knowing the first year may be hard, but the following may be slightly less hard and so on. I also hope you find people that can help you along your path, be they long time friends, newer friends or social media friends. Find your tribe.
Merry White-Knuckled Christmas everyone!