WTF Do I SAY???

It’s December tomorrow.  It also happens to be a weekend.

The first weekend in December is when I traditionally start pulling out Christmas stuff, decorating the house, making cookies and when I get into high gear making cards & gifts etc.

Part of my Christmas chaos is the annual newsletter.  I include this with calendars I make of us from snapshots of the past year.

However… everyone knows what my last year has been like.

Everyone knows what’s been going on.

The *new* stuff is so tiny my letter would be… one paragraph?

“Happy Christmas everyone, this is the year that Mark got sick and died.  There’s *no* pictures of him I’m really willing to share, and *no* family pictures of us.   I hope your year didn’t suck as much as ours did. ”

I’m done with 2012.  Seriously done with it.   During one of Mark’s lucid moments I asked him what the last thing he remembered was.   It was Christmas last year.

That means – he didn’t remember New Years.

He didn’t remember my birthday.

All the memories he had of this year were of being very sick, in the hospital, and finally the last day.

Hey, guess what?  Those are most of my memories too.  Most of my memories until he died were those ones.  Then they became foggy with memories of AFTER.   Memories of LOSS.  Memories of planning a Celebration of Life, of having to send kids off to school without their Dad around, going on a vacation without him, Luke’s 11th birthday without him, our 13th anniversary, Thanksgiving and now we have Christmas.

I don’t like 2012.     It has been the single most painful year of my life.   My friend Adriana keeps promising me that the end of the Mayan calendar is about a change in consciousness.   A shift in how the world is perceived rather than the end of the world.

I hope so.  There are some good things happening, some amazing things happening in my life, but they are all counterbalanced by the pain of losing Mark.   It’s hard to fully enjoy something when there’s a little voice in your head going… “someone’s missing”

I need the shift.  I need the movement from pain and sorrow and sadness to joy.

But I still don’t know what to say in my newsletter… *sigh*

Grey's Anatomy

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5 thoughts on “WTF Do I SAY???

  1. Rose Chimera says:

    Why send a newsletter at all then? Just this once you can NOT send it. If everyone knows all that happened then way subject yourself to trying to re-write it into a happy tone? You can’t. End of the Mayan year and change of consciousness, etc., But what if it doesn’t? Just because the sun went down and came back up again…and I think it will because I don’t buy into the Mayan thing…what if you don’t feel a whole lot better on 12-13-12? That will be ok you know, but are you putting too much pressure on yourself?

    Alternatively if you feel you HAVE to send this newsletter, out of a sense of obligation make it a memorial of Mark; of the GOOD times. They are there in your head way underneath the dark memories. Photo albums old newsletters? It will hurt though no matter what you do, how you do it or present it. It will hurt.

    Its ok to give you permission to NOT subject yourself to even more hurt unless you think it might be cathartic. If so, make it a cathartic exercise for yourself.

    It is YOUR newsletter after all, about YOUR family sent to others. There’s no guidelines that you have to follow, no set outline mandated is there?

    The newsletter can be a scrapbook of sorts of Mark and your life together…before…the dark time.

    Either way…wtf IS there to say when there is no words that exist powerful enough to convey what it feels like how to live your life as it has been for 2012? Ouch! THIS HURTS!!!! That might be my newsletter.

  2. this is a very tough year. i don’t know if i’ll decorate much. local garden club selling greens tomorrow and i’ll get a wreath at least. i will make some simple cards and just write thanks for your thoughts and support-have a good new year. that’s enough. barb put together our letter and i don’t have the energy or material either.
    i’m remembering barb when she was healthy. a photo of her at our rehearsal dinner in 2002 is my favorite. she’s glowing and so happy. when i see or think about an image of her when she was ill i cry-every time.
    i may “decorate” by putting together an album of holiday photos from our 18 years together and raise a glass of scotch to my sweetheart.
    be well and take care in these winter months.

  3. widowwisdom says:

    I totally get what you are saying. The first year I lost S was hard. It was a Christmas that I spent with my family and regardless it didn’t help. So be patient. Do what you want. It’s ok to do nothing. Or just stay with tradition. Regardless it’s yours to own and be proud. We are all walking with you.

  4. sjb1994 says:

    Lord knows, I hear you. I feel it. I remember it. It is terribly hard to watch everyone’s lives go on and feel suck. On my blog, I have one of my old journal type entries that I wrote. It’s much like this one (but doesn’t involve a holiday). Perhaps, this year, you don’t send a card at all. Or just send a card with Merry Christmas in it, even if you don’t feel merry. I don’t think anyone expects you to feel just overjoyed. There is a certain tug of war that happens between wanting to do what you always did as a couple and wanting to separate yourself from the pain. Sometimes that can come from starting your own new traditions, such as not sending the newsletter and doing something different. A small step, probably very painful, like all of those ‘firsts’. Whatever you do, do what makes you feel the best and allows you some time to be just be you. Wishing you the best….

  5. Chris UK says:

    Why not get them to watch the video and if anyone has pictures or memories of things they want to share get them to send them or post. Try to minimise the pain you create for yourself.

    My weak shell of a father tries to placate his new wife by pretending that any previous life including his kids and grand kids don’t exist.

    Great atmosphere for family gatherings. We turn it into a game by wondering what Mum would have thought and the non verbal communication drowns out the words that are spoken.

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