A Decade of Christmases…Sigh.

So many people think grief grows smaller over time. 

But that’s not it at all. 

Grief remains precisely the same size, occupies exactly the same space in my heart. 

Instead, life grows around the grief so that the proportion of my attention and my emotions and my daily routine relative to grief changes. 

I’m thankful for that! 

I couldn’t have borne the initial heaviness for a decade. I couldn’t have (and didn’t want to!) feel that awful, piercing pain every minute of every day for ten years. 

So how is Christmas different NOW from THEN? 

How do I celebrate, how do I mark Dominic’s absence, how do I carry the weight of missing along with the joy of living?

I have some small rituals that help my heart hold onto hope. 

• I light candles and I sit silent watching the flame. I build fires in my fireplace and allow darkness to fall while I celebrate the brightness that keeps it at bay. These remind me darkness cannot conquer the light. 
• I place ornaments on my tree that hold space for Dominic and for my missing of him. Little drums shimmer in the glow of Christmas bulbs. Even if no one else notices, I do and it makes me smile. 
• I decorate his resting place. I’ll be honest, I don’t feel close to him there. The grave isn’t where HE is. I actually feel closer to him in the home which was the hub of family activity for decades. BUT, my decoration reminds others who visit that here lies someone who is loved and missed. 
• I celebrate my living family. I want each of them to know that love lives forever. Yes, I miss Dominic, but I cherish each moment I have with them. Sometimes it costs me greatly to put on the smile and bake the cookies, but I’m still making memories and I want them to be sweet.
• I set aside time each day (hopefully!) to give my heart a break. My habit is to wake before the sun so I have time to myself. In the silent darkness (candles or fire burning) I allow my heart to explore the edges I can’t afford to attend to in the busyness of daylight. I cry or journal or listen to music. 
• I have practical habits too. I write everything down. I don’t depend on my still deficient grief brain to remember details like what I’ve already wrapped. Calendars are my friend. 
• I try to remember that grace is boundless. I cannot exhaust the riches of the love and grace of Jesus. If I do less-than-my-best, grace abounds. If family or friends disappoint me, grace fills the gaps. 

I have shared here since 2015-just eighteen months after Dom left us. My ongoing prayer is that sharing helps other hearts hold on to hope. 

It’s a lifetime of missing, a lifetime of adjusting to the reality that one (or more) of the children we birthed is not here to share the present.

But that doesn’t mean life isn’t full and full of love, life and laughter. 

My wish for you this season is not “Merry Christmas” but is, instead “Hopeful Christmas”. 

May you see the love, light and life of Jesus in every sparkling bulb and flickering candle. 

I love you. <3