The frenzy of the holiday season is upon us. The holidays are not always a happy time, but they are always a time for reflection. They have definitely always been a cause for celebration on our household, and traditionally filled with family, friends and lots of reasons to celebrate. But this year is different. This is the first holiday season without both my parents.
Last November my mom was diagnosed with brain cancer., The diagnosis was shocking and surreal. Last Thanksgiving we were in the midst of the diagnosis, and planning for treatment and the fight of her life. She made me promise that I continue my doctoral work and I filled the passing months with that, page by page, word by word as I willed her to live. We talked daily, I visited when allowed. We kept on fighting. I wanted that happy ending that she would be standing with me at graduation in May alongside my daughter, three strong women together. But that fight was short-lived, the cancer was stronger than any one of us could have imagined. I defended my dissertation in March, my last visit with her creating the slideshow and presenting the work to her. She demanded I go and finish what I started, and although I was torn, she was adamant, and so I did. In a blur, I defended 24 hours after leaving her side, honoring the fight and keeping my promise. I waited for the miracle that she would gain strength, the movie ending. It did not come, she passed away two days later.
My mom didn’t have a funeral, no formal memorial, no way to say goodbye in a traditional way. She was a free spirit to the very end. I have struggled with that. They say that memorials are for the living, and that is true. I realized that I would have to create my own closure, my own way to honor her and close this chapter. So this Thanksgiving, we said goodbye again to mom. She loved the beach, she loved dogs, so spending an afternoon in Coronado, bringing her spirit there to rest for a final time. I know that was the right way to honor her, in the sun, feet in the sand, together in the quiet.
This weekend, a snowstorm back East has delayed my son’s trip back to medical school by a day. We are able to have one extra night together. I didn’t plan on taking out the menorah for our Hanukah celebration or setting up the tree so early. But having a full house is a reason to celebrate so we will. Taking out the ornaments for our tree, this weekend was another reminder that time passes. There in the box are ornaments my mom made for me as a child. I then found the Snoopy ornaments that dad chose every year, another reminder that time passes. Ornaments and photos of my own children from holidays past are there as well. The Hanukah table is filled with menorahs created by my kids, with decorations that tell stories from years gone by. But this season, we will also fill the tree with new ornaments for my kids and grown-up stockings to create new memories, different because we don’t have everyone at the table, but perhaps even sweeter because I have learned to appreciate this time together even more.
I have learned through the loss of my father, and now my mother, that the grieving process is different for every person. They are no roadmaps to grief, at least for me anyway. It creeps up on you, and I can say over time, the memories become sweeter, but the loss is still right there under the surface. I have been slowly processing losing mom these past 9 months, some days I see the light, others I still feel the incredible loss and darkness. Mom and I had a complex relationship and didn’t spend tons of time together. In the end, however, that is what she wished for, was simply more time. More time with her husband, her friends, her grandchildren, and me. It was what she repeated over and over even in her final days. Perhaps that is why this digital space grew dormant most of the year because I too realized that time was a commodity that is not guaranteed. So this season, whatever and with whomever, you celebrate, stop and take it all in. The email can wait, work can wait, the text can wait, and that post to Instagram can also wait. Spend less time in digital spaces, and more time truly present with the ones you care about because you won’t get that time back. Time truly is precious, and how we spend it, in the end, is all that matters.