Christmas comes, Christmas goes
Quite justifiably, bereavement-groups make a big deal of Christmas, and also Thanksgiving.
Both are celebrations of family, and if bereaved one is missing.
But my wife and I (my wife is now gone) never made much of either.
My wife would roast a turkey for Thanksgiving, but we didn’t have family nearby, so all we let share it was our dog.
Same with Christmas; no children, so we didn’t have much reason to put up a tree.
We did at first.
We also exchanged presents at first, but stopped after it became apparent we both reflected dismay with presents received.
Many of the conifers in my yard are old Christmas-trees. When we moved out here to West Bloomfield, we started buying live trees.
They were usually small, but not too long ago we had to cut down our first tree — it had gotten over 40 feet tall, and was crowding out others.
I think we did one tree after my stroke, but after that we stopped. They were too much trouble.
The last live tree was planted by my wife. I wasn’t much help — I was too messed up after my stroke. That tree now is almost 40 feet tall.
To my mind, my stroke was what skonked the Christmas-trees.
We continued putting up outside Christmas decorations, plus electric candles inside our windows.
My wife was putting up the outside lights, which stopped with her death.
I managed to get the inside candles up the first year after she died.
But the last two seasons I haven’t.
I may get them up next year. Right now they’re behind a mountain of trash in my basement — too hard to access.
If I get the trash tossed, I may be able to try again.
So Christmas isn’t much any more, and wasn’t much before my wife died.
I seem to be ending on a down note.
People tell me “I know it’s tough not having your wife for the holidays.”
But it really isn’t any different than any other day.
I miss my wife no matter what day it is.
A bereavement-group to which I once belonged held a “hope for the holidays.” I went a few years ago, but didn’t this year.
• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
• I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield in Western NY, southeast of Rochester. Adjacent is the rural town of East Bloomfield, and the village of Bloomfield is within it.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
Both are celebrations of family, and if bereaved one is missing.
But my wife and I (my wife is now gone) never made much of either.
My wife would roast a turkey for Thanksgiving, but we didn’t have family nearby, so all we let share it was our dog.
Same with Christmas; no children, so we didn’t have much reason to put up a tree.
We did at first.
We also exchanged presents at first, but stopped after it became apparent we both reflected dismay with presents received.
Many of the conifers in my yard are old Christmas-trees. When we moved out here to West Bloomfield, we started buying live trees.
They were usually small, but not too long ago we had to cut down our first tree — it had gotten over 40 feet tall, and was crowding out others.
I think we did one tree after my stroke, but after that we stopped. They were too much trouble.
The last live tree was planted by my wife. I wasn’t much help — I was too messed up after my stroke. That tree now is almost 40 feet tall.
To my mind, my stroke was what skonked the Christmas-trees.
We continued putting up outside Christmas decorations, plus electric candles inside our windows.
My wife was putting up the outside lights, which stopped with her death.
I managed to get the inside candles up the first year after she died.
But the last two seasons I haven’t.
I may get them up next year. Right now they’re behind a mountain of trash in my basement — too hard to access.
If I get the trash tossed, I may be able to try again.
So Christmas isn’t much any more, and wasn’t much before my wife died.
I seem to be ending on a down note.
People tell me “I know it’s tough not having your wife for the holidays.”
But it really isn’t any different than any other day.
I miss my wife no matter what day it is.
A bereavement-group to which I once belonged held a “hope for the holidays.” I went a few years ago, but didn’t this year.
• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
• I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield in Western NY, southeast of Rochester. Adjacent is the rural town of East Bloomfield, and the village of Bloomfield is within it.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
posted by BobbaLew at 1:21 PM
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