A Different Christmas

In December 2014, we had a complete family Christmas, with every living member present. The first in many years. It was absolutely wonderful. Russel had recovered from the dreadful effects of the radiation sickness and was in the process of recovering from his three chemotherapy treatments. Russ was feeling quite good and above all he was happy, surrounded by family.

We shared a wonderful meal and swopped interesting gifts. There was a great deal of fun and laughter. I know that Russel just lit up seeing Aileen and Michael spending time together and what a blessing it was to have our son-in-law, Quinten with us. It was, in my mind, the perfect Christmas. I wanted to freeze time and stay in that precious moment forever.

Even knowing the severity of Russel’s illness, we still maintained a spark of hope, that God would hear our prayers and he would be healed and make a full recovery. He was doing so well at this time, that it seemed quite feasible that this could and even would happen. The belief in a healing miracle for Russ gave that Christmas a special magic. We celebrated the birth of Christ and put all our faith in Him.

We had such a wonderful festive season, doing things with Russ that we had not done before and making memories as a family that would long be remembered and talked about as the most special of times. However Russel was feeling, he never complained, but made the most of every opportunity with his family and enjoyed every moment. We went to the Pretoria Zoo, we went to the Lion Park and we did breakfast at Russel’s favourite place, which he called “Bean and Bun” as often as we could.

Sadly, as Christmas 2015 approached, I knew that this year I could not do the family gathering thing. Aileen and Quinten were spending Christmas with Quinten’s family and Michael had plans. Without Russel, I simply could not face Christmas alone, with everyone else surrounded by their own families. My dear friend, Ingrid, very kindly invited me to her house for lunch. It was a quiet, relaxed, no fuss day, just what I wanted. We had good food and conversation, but being a Jewish household, there was no talk about Christmas.

I attended a church service with my parents in the morning and then had tea with them, before making the drive to Ingrid’s home. We chatted and laid out lunch. After which, we watched videos of eons ago, when Ingrid and I were little tots and lived next door to one another. I had never seen these home movies and it was quite a stroll down memory lane.

Late in the afternoon I went home, planning to spend time with my folks, but during the drive I began to feel quite melancholy and nostalgic, so I returned to my little cottage. It was quiet and peaceful, but still filled with memories of Russ. I cried for all the Christmases that Russel would never share with us again. Our first Christmas without Russ and he was sorely missed. I thought about the 27 Christmases that had gone before. Some of them Russel spent in America alone, but he never seemed to mind. Even I didn’t mind too much because I knew he was there, just a phone call away.

Now, I have so many things I still want to tell my husband and he is no longer here. I can’t show him the bling sandals Aileen gave me for Christmas, or the lap tray from Mom and Dad. I can’t ask him what he thinks of my colouring pictures or the bright gold sandals I bought myself. Although I do know what he would have said. Imagining his quips and jokes, is simply not the same as hearing Russ say them.

I mostly manage to get through days without anyone else even realizing that I am still grieving. Even when I appear to be laughing and enjoying the moment, I am often crying inside, feeling deeply sad and empty, with a hollow space Russel used to fill. Unless someone has lost a loved one, they cannot begin to understand the depth of hurt I am going through. It is unutterably heartbreaking to be so alone in this pain of loss.

There are thoughts and feelings that go through my mind, which I cannot even begin to articulate or describe in words. I vacillate between denial and anger and mostly feel overwhelmed by this deep, unrelenting sadness. I sometimes wonder if it is true that one can die of a broken heart. It certainly feels like it is possible. The only joy I have in my hour of darkness are my children. Without them I simply don’t know if I could find the will to go on. I just long and long for the life Russ and I shared. There were times when it wasn’t great, when I thought it was hard and I was unhappy, but if I had known this agony that was waiting for me down the line, I would have appreciated all I had so much more.

Too late. Now it is too late and sadly I have so many regrets. Parts of me are healing, while other pieces are still completely shattered. Trying to imagine the future without Russ is dreadful. I never wanted to be alone and now I am and it was not my choice. I go to bed at night praying to wake up and things would be back to the way they were. That all of this and Russel dying was a horrible nightmare. But I get up every morning and this horrendous bad dream is still my life. Father God, please help me to find my way out of this hell on earth and give me a purpose and a reason to go on. Amen.

#pain #loss #Christmas #grief #nightmare #heartbreak