The Christmas Season

The Christmas season brings memories of joy and pain at the same time. I remember the happy day when my son David was born in December and when we placed him in a stocking under the tree as he was our Christmas gift. I remember how we decorated the Christmas tree just in time for his birthday.  I remember the joys of his childhood as he opened presents. I remember the excitement and anticipation and the smiles and laughter that we shared.  I remember the joys of the past and wish that things were different. Now my home is quiet and sad. My son is not with us and the emptiness is so clear that it sends a dagger into my heart and soul each time we gather together. Our family is no longer complete. Instead of memories however, my eyes want to see him again. My hands want to touch him again. My lips want to tell him how much I love him. My ears want to hear his voice. 

Why do I continue to be sad?

It is because my very soul refuses to give up David. He is a part of me and yet he is absent physically. I think of him on a daily basis and my soul rages over not being able to hold him, hug him or touch him. I think of the way things used to be and I cling to those memories. I look at his pictures and my heart melts. The void is real. The loneliness is real. The despair is real. The love is real. Yet I manage to go on daily as if nothing has changed.
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I Weep

During this holiday season I am more emotional than ever and the loneliness and despair has resulted in the writing of this short article.

  

I weep not only for losing my son but for all the parents who lost their children. I weep when I think of his face, I weep for his empty place. I weep when I think of the cold ground that covers him. Is he really gone from me on earth? I question that and continue to weep.

I have cried and wrestled often in prayer. How could someone as precious, so dear to my heart vanish like vapor and disappear? Yet I say to myself no, no, he is still with me. And then I say to myself “where is my son?” Where is he hiding? I look for him everywhere, among the flowers and trees, around the empty streets, in the house and everywhere, yet he is not there.

Pleasant memories bring him back to me, and my eyes become blurry with tears, yet there is no glimpse of him. Loneliness fills my soul and I question his whereabouts and wonder how one so close to me in life could be so far away now. I am alone and my heart is broken and my longing for him is as strong as ever. I long for him by day and by night. I often wish that he would come back again and free me from all the intense pain. Just as the leaves fall and the flowers die, I think of my son who is gone.

My hopes and feelings are confused; my sick heart grieves and is full of anguish. Yet his going from this earth has given me serener thoughts and nearness to the sky, and has opened my heart and my eyes to see what is beautiful and has strengthened my faith and turned me around from what is temporal to what is eternal.

Why be thankful

In Psalms 34:1 we read: “I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall be continually in my mouth”. I often ask myself:  “how can I be thankful after losing my son?”

My mother was a simple woman who was uneducated. Yet she was a godly woman who saw God in His creation. I remember her washing fruits and vegetables and praising God in amazement over the beauty of the colors of the various fruits and vegetables. She would laugh when she saw a bird hopping or singing through the kitchen window. I remember her kneeling by the bedside at night praying and thanking God for everything even though she could hardly provide for our food and clothing. We too can be thankful for the things that we take for granted, for the fruit on the tree, the birds that sing, the flowers that bloom and the leaves that fall.

I am a biology teacher by profession. I often instill in my students a thankful attitude. For example when I talk about the kidneys, I explain to them as to why they cannot live without both kidneys as they remove the nitrogenous waste products from our bodies without which our bodies would become toxic.  I then ask them if they were ever thankful for their kidneys. I do not think that we realize all the blessings that we have until we lose them. We take talking, seeing, hearing, walking and being able to use our hands for granted, as an example. Many people are blind, deaf, crippled or paralyzed. Every heartbeat matters and we should cherish every moment of life as it is a gift.

If you have nothing to be thankful for this year, rejoice for the life within you that is a gift from God. You can be thankful for the miracle of spring that brings nature to a new life, the beauty of the sky and sea, the sunrise and the sunset as well as the moon and the stars that illuminate the darkness of the sky.

Do the memories alone make life worth living? Can I be thankful for the loneliness that I experience? Yes, it is because of the deep loneliness that I can reflect over David’s life for which I am thankful.  I often ask myself how can I be thankful after losing my son. How can I be thankful when my wounded heart and all life’s sweetness seem to ebb and die? How can I be thankful when slow sad years go by? How can I be thankful when peace was replaced with anguish and turmoil?

Thank God for life, love, and pain. Thankfulness to me is one of the most exalted principles that can provoke the heart of man. It is something noble and devout. 

Choosing Life

I continue to mourn a most valuable and beloved son. I continue to have a yearning affection and heart felt affliction towards him. Agonies of grief and unequaled anguish continue. The loss is beyond measure. It is aggravated by months and years of void. Months and years fly away and nothing allows joy to stay and no curtain can shut sorrow away. Without David’s presence the earth is empty. My soul cannot be content any longer in this world. My soul bleeds with anguish. I often experience my silent sorrow bursting with loud laments. I weep and refuse to be comforted. I am surprised that religion does not seem to console at times and at other times it is the only consolation that allows me to survive.  I treasure the memories. These memories are like a fund which is inexhaustible and which supplies all my wants by keeping my son alive. These memories are rich, they are happy and they are a gift.

What can I do with all the days and hours that are left before I can see David’s face again? I can live in the past and cheat myself of the present. Or I can embrace life looking forward to eternity with him. I choose the latter.