powered by:
valneva canada inc.
why being happy during the holidays can be complicated
spreading cheer can be awkward and weird around people who are sad or scared or sick. but awkward and weird doesn't mean you shouldn't try. in fact, you must try.
dec 31 2019
4 minute read
the holidays have always brought me down.
in my work running an organization supporting people with cancer and as someone living with cancer, the holidays can be a mess of emotions that threaten to take you down in a serious way. maybe it’s mourning the loss of a special someone, or fear that a disease may not be treatable, or uncertainty that maybe you won’t be around to see another holiday. there’s something about this time of year that brings to the surface everything you have been working so hard to suppress. and frankly, i am not a fan.
the thing is, people in crisis spend the year keeping their heads up, hoping for the best, trying to look forward in a way that’s meaningful. there are days when simply picking up a toothbrush feels monumental. then there are the lighter-hearted times – which you hope come often – when you feel like you are finally moving forward, even if it’s just a little bit. then, the holidays arrive and suddenly everything goes sideways.
if you have someone in your life who fits into any of these categories, spreading cheer can be awkward and weird, especially if you are one of those holiday-loving, wear-a-santa-hat-in-public kind of people who want everyone to be holiday-loving and wearing a santa hat in public. but awkward and weird doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. in fact, you absolutely must try.
advertisement
advertisement
1. for the one who is missing someone
there will be an empty chair at the dinner table this holiday season for many people. while it’s instinctual to avoid what makes people sad – tears can be scary – it can be nice to take a moment to share memories. in my family, we make it a point to tell funny stories about my dad who passed away last year. yes, it gets emotional, but it accomplishes a whole load of feel-good things. first, it acknowledges my mom’s grief. so instead of stepping outside to “check the lights” ten times when the emotions get overwhelming because she doesn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, we give her a safe space to feel sad and be supported. sharing memories also keeps him alive for my kids in a way that’s light and hopefully joyful, while for me making him feel close and weirdly, as if he is part of the occasion.
one of the most touching gifts i received the first christmas after my dad passed away was from a work colleague was a beautiful poinsettia. but it was the card that touched me the most. it simply said, “i know you are missing someone special this christmas. you are in my thoughts.” (gulp)
2. for the one who is dealing with an illness
illness can make the joy of the holidays, well, not joyous at all. if you are in pain, or just feeling horrible, the last thing you want to do is party with shiny happy people. fair enough. so what’s a loved one to do? put on a funny movie, light a nice smelling candle or read the paper out loud. pack away expectations and just show up, because, let’s be real, this time it’s not about you.
advertisement
advertisement
a neighbour of mine has been caring for her mom who has terminal brain cancer. she started the holidays off by decorating her mom’s room with lights and festive ornaments. while this made my friend very happy, it turned out the holiday vibe was lost on her mom, who finally ‘fessed up that all the jolly was actually bringing her down.
3. for the survivor
celebrate, celebrate, celebrate. this can get complicated, but the bottom line is bring the cheer. don’t be the one to talk memories (“remember when you lost all of your hair?”). talk about the future, but also make room for fear and worry. people who have faced a life-threatening illness, that breathtaking feeling of death being a real possibility, the crushing possibility of leaving children, will forever worry in big and small ways that they will face it again. this is sometimes complicated by ‘survivor’s guilt’ as they question why they were the ones to live, when someone else didn’t. these are hard conversations to have, after all, who wants to talk gloom and doom in the middle of the festive season? i get it, but the survivor gets the floor in this case. acknowledge the fear, but celebrate the life as well.
on the 25th, i will sit down for a lavish guyanese dinner with all the family favourites like pepperpot and black cake and like every year, there will be that moment my emotions collide. i will look around the table and feel the absence of my dad twist in my gut, a shiver of gratitude that i am alive to see the beautiful faces of my kids for another christmas and warm appreciation when i hear my brother’s laugh. then i will think of all those who are sick, in pain, those we have lost and their loved ones who are missing them.
advertisement
advertisement
and then, well, there’s nowhere to go but forward.
lmachado@postmedia.com
share story
