Tis the Season…to Ride the Waves?
‘Tis the season… to ride the waves?
When I was nine years old, my father passed away in a sudden, tragic way on Boxing Day, December 26th. I went to bed at the end of Christmas Day happy with a full belly of treats, and woke up the next morning to a life that had changed. Each subsequent year on Boxing Day, my mom would plan something fun for my brother and I to do on that day to keep us busy, and to try to build happier memories on that date.
As time went on, as an adult, I had moved from seeking out distraction to allowing myself the chance for quiet reflection, acknowledging the date, feeling the sadness, while also recognizing the life that I had built. For a bit. And then I would get back to whatever task needed to be done. At times, it felt like what had occurred had happened in another lifetime, as I felt I had made so much progress in my healing. That said, the ritual of being at home (either at home with my mom and brother, or at home with my own family) around that date continued, and the day would be filled, and then pass. Sometimes, it would be a day of travel to see my husband’s family. Navigating airports functioned as a distraction on these days.
In 2019, my husband, myself and our children travelled with my husband’s side of the family to Cuba for the Christmas season. For the first time since I was nine, on December 26th, I was sitting by the ocean beside my sister-in-law watching my children play in the sand with their cousins. It was paradise. As I was sitting there, watching them, tears began streaming down my face. However, these were not tears of happiness. They appeared out of seemingly nowhere, not connected to any particular thought. The tears progressed to deep sobs from the bottom of my stomach, and I was unable to get them under control. I was surprised (despite being a mental health professional). My sister-in-law was very confused (but compassionate). I managed to explain that this was the first December 26th that I was not at home, or living a day of distractions. I was in a completely different environment, relaxed, while my body remembered. The body truly does keep the score.
I share this deeply personal story for a couple of reasons. A reminder – grief is not linear – it ebbs and flows like waves. Sometimes, all is calm. Sometimes, a wave comes up and we must ride it out. It is important to put aside our judgement of what grieving “should” look like. It is unique to every individual. And, it is never too late to reach out for, or offer, support.
Further, the season of Christmas and New Years is an emotionally-charged time. Everything this time of year has some “extra” about it. It is joyous, so busy, a time of celebration, and reconnection. It is also a period that often becomes a time of reflection. Grief does not only refer to the loss of a person in one’s life. It can be experienced after any major change, unmet expectations, and can even coincide with happy events which result in a significant change in one’s life.
So, this season, as we navigate all that comes, I encourage you to show compassion for yourself and others as we ride the waves of the holidays. There is no set timeline for the processing of all the emotions we may be experiencing. Choose healthy ways to move through the emotions. Show compassion toward others. Look for opportunities to laugh. And remember, one does not need to wait until a state of crisis to reach out for the help of a therapist to learn tools to help manage difficult times.
Click here for some resources. You can also call, text, search or chat on the Saskatchewan 211 website: https://sk.211.ca/, call the HealthLine at 811 (there is a mental health support option on the menu), or the Suicide Crisis Helpline 9-8-8 for yourself or someone you are concerned about for support.
Additional reading (not an exhaustive list, just a couple of suggestions):
Blog Post Written by: Pam Korczak, Psychologist with Wildflowers
