"Walking by the holiday decorations, I see the lights. It's hard to miss them since they're everywhere - blinking from plastic trees and dangling from the ceiling. It's undoubtedly a well-lit wonderland, but I don't stop to look. That is, I can't stop. The colored lights are an instant reminder of my dad. Memories of him carefully placing his favorite strings of blue lights on our tree bring a jagged emptiness."
"Holiday grief is something I didn't anticipate unwrapping every year. When my father passed away from a sudden heart attack, my family fell into a kind of shock. He was in good health and only a few months before, had a routine checkup with no abnormalities. His passing didn't make sense. In the weeks after he left us, we did all the things you do, helping my mom as best we could, but we weren't prepared."
"It's the seemingly insignificant things that sneak up and trigger my grief: My first Christmas without him, I walked past the kitchen counter and, without thinking, looked for my great-grandmother's cookie cutter. My dad used it to shape Oma's cookies, and while he was cutting the dough, I'd hear him ask with a grin, "Did I ever tell you the story about when I was in high school, and Oma made me a secret plate of cookies?" Yes, every Christmas."
A father who loved blue Christmas lights and telling family stories died unexpectedly from a sudden heart attack three years ago. Holiday decorations and rituals trigger immediate, painful memories, especially blue lights that evoke seeing him place strings on the tree. The family experienced shock and unpreparedness while supporting the mother. The person identifies with statistics showing many adults lose a parent early and many avoid holiday celebrations because of grief. Small objects and routines, like a great-grandmother's cookie cutter and familiar anecdotes, repeatedly surface and cause emotional pain. The person is incorporating the father's favorite things into new personal rituals to remember him.
Read at Business Insider
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