The Pain of Colored Christmas Lights; Getting Through the Holidays after Loss

After I got the call Halie was killed, I collapsed under our Christmas tree in our tiny apartment. I remember the world being still around me and eerily quiet as I looked up at the colorful Christmas lights from underneath.

I think my body went into shock, because I felt nothing. I heard nothing. Even my thoughts in my head sounded distant and muffled. All I remember thinking was how pretty the lights were.

This was our first Christmas as a married couple and we were setting the tone of what our traditions were going to be. Kody wanted colorful lights like how he grew up, and I wanted white lights like the trees we had.

I was feeling extra generous and thought Kody should win this one, so we went with colored.

When I was lying under the tree that night, I was appreciative of the color. It was like as if the shock in my body instantly made me look at the world differently.

However, as I sit here now writing this, staring at this year’s beautiful Christmas tree, I am not sure I feel the same way about the lights.

Are the lights still beautiful to me? Or do they hold an awful memory?

It’s weird, because I don’t remember questioning the lights, the last few years. I can’t even remember if we had a tree the year of the first anniversary.

I know, the second anniversary was Bodhi’s first Christmas, so I was distracted by the excitement.

The following year was Christmas in the first home we bought. We were hosting everyone, so it was such a fun experience for me to be able to do that.

And last year, Bennett was barely a month old, so I wasn’t functioning in the slightest.

All those years, the 23rd of December lived on an island.

When it came to anticipating for that day to come, it didn’t step foot in any other day of the month. I never let it affect anything Christmas, because I didn’t want the memory to taint anything that could be beautiful.

It was as if the day she died was any other day of the year, and had nothing to do with the holiday. It was an isolated incident in my head.

On my island day, I grieved, I distracted, I did what I could to get through. I would step into it in the morning, and out of it at night. That is just how I learned to cope without letting the accident take more from me.

My island is slowly growing outward. Unlike the other years, there are no celebratory distractions. I am faced with my truth everyday as I sit with my morning coffee in front of this tree.

I have to stare at the lights and remember how I felt the last time I truly observed them.

Who knows if this will be my new normal every year, or it is the fact that it’s the 5th anniversary.

The holidays can be such a tough experience for people, especially when you choose to suffer in silence.

What is supposed to be joyous and wonderful, is masked by feelings of intense grief, regret, and confusion.

Only people who go through extreme losses know what that feels like. It can be such an isolating experience, trying to find someone who can relate to you.

When you see everyone going about the holiday traditions with big smiles and laughs, it can make you angry that they don’t seem to care about your loss. It can make you sad you’ll never be able to have a normal tradition without the pain in the back of your head. It can make you confused and question “why you?”

If my grief lived on an island, how could I feel angry, sad, and confused all month long watching others?

How can you feel angry, sad and confused when you’re out there doing the same thing?

Truth is, I don’t understand how grief works. I don’t know how or why I experience things.

Anger, sadness, and confusion are things I experience all year long around Halie’s death. Just because the way I relive everything from the 23rd lives on an island, doesn’t mean I have the capability to only feel grief one day a year.

It is lifelong. It is never going away.

The difference with the 23rd is, I relive every moment after that phone call and days proceeding. Everything is vivid. Everything is fresh. My body goes through the pain over and over all day long.

It’s like I time-warp back to that day every year. I am in that apartment screaming in pain.

That is not something I want to experience every day in December. I wouldn’t be able to function.

Despite having pain and jealousy around holiday traditions, I am not going to let it be debilitating where my kids never get to experience what a beautiful time it can be. I can distract myself pretty easily and put up a good coat of armor.

I have to do it for my boys.

If I began to make the association with her and Christmas, the flood gates would be open and there would be no return. I have to disassociate otherwise it would be the most torturous traumatic month.

Everywhere you turn Christmas lights, Christmas decoration, Christmas music, the smells of Christmas, Santa Claus etc.

You can’t escape Christmas for the entire month of December, if not the second Halloween is over, (because of those people who believe Christmas starts then.) If I allowed that association, I don’t know what I would do. I would crumble at every turn.

For it to live on an island, is so important to me. Otherwise, I would suffer essentially for an extended period of time. I don’t think I can do that to myself. I don’t think I could do that to the people around me. I don’t think that’s fair to my boys to let this person who took everything from me, take from them as well.

You know it’s not a perfect system. It’s not something that is built with stable armor around it. It has flaws. It doesn’t always work.

Especially for some reason this year, the guard is falling down more than it ever has before.

This year is just the first time I have truly slowed down in five years, I am taking it all in for once.

That is why these Christmas lights are so hurtful. I am experiencing the flashbacks every single time I look at them.

I know I will work through the pain. I know I can heal from this too.

Or next year we will buy a new set of white Christmas lights, and who doesn’t love a little Christmas shopping?