Good morning, Warriors, and welcome back to the Den. Today, I am sitting here in my office, just taking a moment to just be and reflect on recent events. I want to reach out to those of you who are hurting, particularly those of you who have a difficult time during this holiday season.
This time of year is particularly difficult for me, and yet in many ways it is also very symbolic of the traditional meaning of the season, death. And through death, comes new life which we see and celebrate in the spring. This year has given me much to reflect upon, and I want to share it with all of you, in hopes that you will know that you are not alone. Hopes for your new life.
When I was younger, I had a seriously devout hatred for this time of year. As a small child, I had the experience of the magical moments that, as adults, we often find only in commercials. As I got older, holidays became times of emotional stress, and as a teen, the magical moments became few and far between, due to stress and familial drama. As a young adult, it didn’t get better. The retail and service industries and hell at this time of year, and the commercialism surrounding the season is enough to cause so much physical and emotional stress that I would often be incapable of finding joy in anything. Plus the family drama and expectation only got worse. The magic I found for the season during those years was watching my young child’s eyes sparkle when watching the blinking lights on the Christmas tree or when I was able to surprise her with a gift she had desperately wanted and never expected. Now that she’s an adult, and we have no kids in the house, and no extended family, my spouse and I have no expectations to fulfill for others. We do as we choose, which brings it’s own form of magic. There’s no stress.
However, this time of year has brought around a different type of emotional hardship for me. As a teenager and through my early adulthood, it was the six months of stress from family expectation and demand regarding birthdays and holidays. That emotional drama was a large part of why I chose to cut off communication with my family many years ago. However, that disconnect doesn’t stop life, or death. And that is where I find myself now, in that crux between the two. In the season most symbolizing death, that is also when members of my family also cross the veil to the afterlife.
This is the week of the year where I am most affected, though the full time frame is actually nearly two months long. It started when I was a teen, with my great-grandmother, one of the people I was closest to as a small child. She made her crossing in mid-November. I couldn’t mourn as she was in great pain and her death released her from that. Then in my late 20s it was my grandfather, the second person I was closest to. His was the one of the hardest, as I got my annual birthday phone call from my grandmother who told me that my grandfather was too sick to get on the phone to tell me happy birthday for himself. My heart sank and I felt a brick of lead in the pit of my stomach. He made his crossing four days later. Several years ago, my grandmother crossed over in early January. Then two years ago came the one that shattered my world completely. I hadn’t been in contact with my family in well over a decade, and I got a message from my sister. She had found me to let me know that a few days before my birthday my mother had made her crossing. The day I got her message was 20 years to the day that she had made the phone call to let me know that my grandfather had passed away. The time frame between the two events was about one week apart, this week. The week surrounding my birthday, which has often been another day filled with drama and expectation.
I don’t mourn my family, and while this is a difficult week for me emotionally, and a time of sadness, I use it as a time of reflection. I remember my family with love, and know that they have moved on to their next lives. I reflect on the lessons I have learned from them. But this year, I have something new to celebrate as well. Since our mother’s passing, my sister and I have occasionally exchanged messages. Very seldom, and usually only on birthdays or holidays. A few days ago, I received a message of a different type. One of hope and reconciliation. My sister was reaching out and this year, with no stress, and no expectation, my present this year is that my sister and I, who never had a chance at a real relationship before, are going to try to build one together. Through our mother’s death, she and I get a chance at a new life.
Blessed Be.
The Warriors Den 