I’m sitting in my favorite ‘office’ which is actually a coffee shop on a river near my house. Yesterday I sat in the same seat, stared at the computer screen for 3 hours and wrote 2 sentences. This writing struggle is real. (Deep breath in and out)

The holidays are quickly approaching, which is equally terrifying and exciting. I had planned for my next post to be about my anniversary, which was on October 20^th. I cannot finish it. While I take a break from that one, I thought I’d share my current struggle and the big elephant in the room for me and probably many others this holiday season…the empty seat.

As a disclaimer-I do not need rescuing from my bathroom floor. As I stated in my last post, I am certainly in a much better place both mentally and emotionally, but as November began, I was reminded at how quickly I can go from being on top of my emotions to an anxiety ridden, emotional, insomniac. My body remembers trauma and it just does its own thing. The important thing is that I can recognize it and not let it take me down the hole. I’m not depressed which is major; I just can’t sleep and eat very well. Manageable. So while it’s not a ‘fun’ topic and can often be one of the most avoided ones I’ve experienced, it is certainly a very real, honest one. Brace for it.

I’m blessed.

It’s not even a question. Even despite my tragedy, I am blessed. The holidays are a time where we reflect on our blessings and how grateful we are for what and who we have in our lives. To me there is absolutely nothing better in this world than having your family come together to eat, drink, and share life. I’m obsessed with my family, all of them. A few of them are scattered across the country, and everyone does not make it in town for the holidays anymore. I get it, but I don’t like it.

For years, that was the extent of my concept of empty seats. Don’t get me wrong, I still very much dislike them, but my perception of those empty seats has changed. Are they alive and well at someone else’s table? If yes, then that’s life, right? Like watching your child graduate from high school or giving your daughter away at her wedding, these are beautiful, exciting moments with underlying feelings of sadness and loss of what was. We get married, join families and share our time. It’s one of life’s greatest blessings, but there’s no denying they are hard pills to swallow. In the spirit of honesty, when it comes to family I much prefer being share-d with, not so much shar-ing. Sorry, not sorry.

Besides not wanting to share family members, growing up I never had a bad holiday experience. Ever. Every single one was full of joy and excitement. Trust me, I know… blessed. I’m sure even if I would have sensed something that could be upsetting, I would tell myself (or anyone else for that matter) to ‘get over it’, and move on.  Scary, but that’s how I operated. There would be no need to ruin the holidays when surely there was a perfectly good rug somewhere we could sweep things under. The truth is, though, I didn’t even have anything to hide under a rug. I didn’t have a sick parent or sibling. I never had to wonder if there would be food on the table or presents under the tree. I didn’t have to split the holidays or wonder why one or both of my parents weren’t home. I had no concept of why or how anyone could feel any other than joy. It’s the most wonderful time of the year…right?!  I was blissfully unaware that for some the holidays could be a very sad and painful time of year…that is until I became one of those people.

My first holiday season without Jonathan, I thought that everyone should just cancel anything having to do with celebrating. By everyone, I literally meant everyone. The world. Shut it down. Reasonable request, I think.  When I realized that this was not going to happen, my world became even smaller.  I’ve dealt with a lot of feelings over the last 5 years, but I can say without exception that being very sad while everyone else is (perceived) very happy is one of the most isolating feelings I’ve experienced. You may as well have a third eye protruding from your forehead. You’re different, and you’re swept under the rug faster than you can wipe that tear from your eye. Did no one else hear that Jonathan had died? Did anyone still care?

Can anyone see me under this rug?!

This year, like ones before, I will be surrounded by my family eating, drinking and sharing life. I hope to be less of a wallflower this year and be more engaging (here’s to hoping). I will be overwhelmingly grateful for the things and people I have in my life. I will delight in watching the younger generations experience the same wonderful holiday traditions that I grew up with. I will laugh and have moments of pure happiness. I will look around the table at all the people I love and feel their love in return. But at some point, the walls will start to close in, the (obnoxiously) loud chatter will be drowned out, and I will zone out and think about the one person who isn’t there…who will never be there again.

‘But you have all of your family around you.’ ‘When are you going to move on?’ ‘Enjoy the people that are here.’ ‘Don’t focus on the negative, look around.’ ‘He wouldn’t want you to be sad.’

Dear people,

You mean well, but please, shut up.

I don’t fault you. I was you. I know that your words are not meant to harm or hurt, but you should know that they are just empty words. Not now, nor will these words ever fill that empty seat or the pain it represents.  You will not drown out my husband’s shaken voice asking if his last thanksgiving in 2012 would be the last time he would be at his family home. It wasn’t, Christmas was. Your words will not erase the memory of him asking his mom to cook ‘Thanksgiving’ in March, so he could have just one more before his death, 2 weeks later. Sure the turkey is excellent, but this choke hold around my neck makes it difficult to swallow. You can’t see it, but believe me, it’s there.

Jonathan’s last time at ‘the land’ near his family home.

Many of us will have empty seats this holiday season and maybe death is not the reason. It may be because of deployment, divorce, rehab, estrangement, etc. A loved one may be too sick physically, mentally or emotionally to be there. Whatever the situation, I encourage you to see them. Really see them. Don’t push their feelings aside to make yourself and others feel more comfortable. Don’t offer empty words.

Be empathetic.

‘I know this is hard, and I’m so sorry.’

My first Christmas after Jonathan passed, a family friend came up to me quietly and said those exact words. With the sea of people around, she saw me. And she was the only one. It meant everything. She didn’t ask me how I was doing. She knew. Your words have the power to be everything to someone desperately needing something, anything, to stop them from crumbling. Be that person. Don’t ignore the elephant. Hug them. Write them a note. Let them know it’s okay for them to be sad, because trust me, the pressure to not be, is suffocating.

Not acknowledging someone’s pain, does not mean it doesn’t exist.

To those hurting this season, you are not alone. Be kind to yourself. You’re not crazy. Take that moment to escape to the bathroom to cry and let it out. It’s okay to feel happy and sad at the same time. I know it feels crazy, but it’s perfectly normal. Be kind to both emotions. I don’t write this from a place of having mastered this. These are the words that have been drilled in my head from years of counseling. I’m still learning to put them into practice, and practicing is all we can do.

Have grace for those who are not hurting. While I would love for everyone to understand my pain, that would mean they would have had to experience something traumatic as well. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. The truth is most people are trying, and they don’t know what to do. It’s uncomfortable sometimes to voice what we need, but find someone you trust, and let them know what you need. Sometimes you don’t even know what that is, but just having someone hear you might be the answer. Sometimes what you need may seem odd or different. Go with it. I put up a small Christmas tree and decorate with ornaments that remind me of Jonathan-fish, jalapenos, angels. I call it the ‘Jonathan tree.’ I add to it every year, and it’s comforting for me. Will I do it every year? Who knows! For now it makes me feel like he’s still a part of something he loved so dearly, and it helps me feel ‘in the spirit.’ Whatever gets you through, do it. Embrace what they loved and what you loved together.

 

That’s one of my favorite quotes, because it’s so true. Remember that you will make it to January even when it feels like it will never end. January will come. And while the empty chair will surely make appearances throughout the year, the choke hold that the holidays bring will soon ease up. Hold on… relief is coming .

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to all of you!

 

Keep going,

Lindsey