Here Come the Holidays

Thanksgiving already? How did it sneak up on us? Actually it didn't; it came with a bang. The day after jack o'lanterns and witches vanished from the shelves, Santas and Christmas ornaments appeared. Within a few days the malls were decorated and Christmas carols were playing. Too early for me, when our Houston thermometers were still pushing ninety. One of these years they'll probably start Christmas on July 5.

By the time the holidays arrive, we're innured to them. Or we're depressed from all the messages that say, "Be joyful! Celebrate!"

Being joyful and celebratory is tough in the widowsphere. The holidays don't feel right any more, with your spouse missing. No one to gripe to about the high prices and crowded stores, no one to share a glassw of egg nog with in front of the fire. Even with people around, we feel alone.

It's normal to feel sorry for ourselves in the midst of other people's merriment. I'm pretty sure it's okay to cry and to have a long (one-sided) conversation with our absent spouses. But we might also want to add a thank-you for all the good times we had together and a promise not to ever forget them.

Since Ralph died, I've spent my Thanksgiving Days with my daughter-in-law's warm and welcoming family. It's not the same. The turkey isn't a Ralph-cooked one and his jalapeno dressing is missing. But I do have fun, and this year my granddaughter's birthday, the 26th, is the next day so we'll be celebrating that, too. I wish her Popo could see how she's grown; she's a feisty 12-year-old, still as chatty as ever, who makes videos with her American Girl dolls and has 1000 subscribers on YouTube (Eat your heart out, Nana.) She's made the leap to middle school. No boyfriends yet, although she confesses she's been asked. Ralph would be proud of her. She was the last person he asked to see before he died, and his doctor made special arrangements so he could leave the transplant floor and say goodbye to her.

This year I'm thankful for my family and friends, for the work that still fulfills me (How can anything be more satisfying than teaching a child to talk?), for my two cuddly cats, for learning new things, and for making it through to another Thanksgiving.

And to all my friends in cyberspace, may you stay upbeat during the holidays and think of the good things in your lives.

With love and thanks, Thelma Z

More on Getting Through the Holidays

I thought I'd add an extra post this week. Here are some tips on getting through the holidays from a psychiatrist friend.

Give yourself permission to cry if you have to, need to, want to.

If your budget is tight (and whose isn't these days? )think of passing on a favorite book, an album of family photos, or some other special possession instead of buying a gift for a friend/family member.

Keep your home full of light. This is the dark time of year in which Seasonal Affective Disorder can hit you and heaven knows, we don't need another way to be depressed. Lots of natural light combats SAD and lifts your spirits.

You would have given your spouse a gift if he were still here, so spend some of that money by contributing to a charity in someone's name instead of buying something for them.

Donate to the library for a book dedicated to your spouse.

Together with your children or grandchildren, give a gift donation for a needy child. I give my granddaughter a check to donate to a charity of her choice each year, with the stipulation that she write a letter explaining why she's donating to them. Two years ago, she wrote the sweetest letter to the Leukemia Society. I made a copy and framed it. It brought joy to my holiday as well as helping fight the disease my husband had.

Hang a stocking for your spouse and ask friends/family to fill it with notes about your spouse. You may cry as you read them, but they'll be "good" tears.

And of course, get plenty of rest, eat healthy snacks (I know it's impossible with all those holiday goodies)and exercise--walk somewhere that was meaningful to you and your husband.

And finally, please don't spend the holiday alone.