I love the holidays…but they are so hard. It’s such a complicated time for grief.
I’m so happy creating holiday traditions with Annabel and James…and so sad that Madeline is missing out.
The line between happiness and sadness is thin at this time of year. My children make me so wildly happy. It would be dishonest to say I didn’t wish all three of them were here, making Christmas memories. It doesn’t take anything away from Annabel or James to want their sister here to enjoy these moments with them.
Madeline’s death changed my entire life, and will continue to color every aspect of it…likely for the rest of my life.
That might sound ominous but it isn’t, not always. My emotions are more intense, my hugs are tighter, I take more moments to cup chins and kiss knees. I do my best to not put things off. I try to have more fun.
I also take the sad moments and feel them. Now that Annabel is old enough, I tell her, “Mommy misses Maddie and Jackie. Mommy wishes she could read a new email from her Aunt Kathy. Mommy is sad. Sometimes you’ll be sad, too. Everybody gets sad sometimes.”
I tell my children every day how happy they make me, and how much I love them. I am teaching them that happiness and sadness can coexist; specifically, that being sad and missing people does not take away from the happy moments that we are currently experiencing.
It can be exhausting. I want nothing more than to be buying presents for Madeline, giggling with Jackie on the phone, and preparing for my Aunt Kathy to visit over Christmas. There are nights when I don’t know how my heart survived breaking over my missing loved ones while simultaneously bursting over something amazing my children did.
It can feel like a dual life, and I’m sometimes I’m very angry about it. The holidays, with all of their togetherness and over-the-top emotion, often bring this all to a head. It’s messy, and most people don’t want to hear about it. That’s fair.
I just…I want my kids to know that even though I’m living with this burden of loss, I am doing everything I can to keep it from hurting them. I might not always succeed, but I am trying. I want them to have happy memories. I want them to know how much I love them. They deserve great holidays no matter how emotionally complicated things might be for the grown-ups around them. So even though this time of year can be difficult, I promise to always do my best to make it magical. Even when things feel so dark, my babies are my sunshine. I love them so much.
Julie says:
I think you do an amazing job of making all the holidays magical for your children while at the same time recognizing the absence of loved ones no longer with you. Annie and James will grow up knowing it is ok to be sad and cry and also to be happy and laugh. They will know who their big sister Maddie is and will keep her memory alive celebrating her birthday with cream puffs and watching her videos and looking at pictures.
While not a parent myself, I don’t understand why some parents hide feelings and emotions and devastatingly sad moments from their children. Emotions and feelings are things that should be let out and not bottled up.
I lost my dad 19 years ago when I was 29 and I feel his absence daily. He died in early November, so we had to get through Thanksgiving, his birthday, Christmas and New Years in less than 2 months. I still remember how hard it was to feel like celebrating when my dad – my best friend – wasn’t there.
Thank you for sharing so much about your life. Sending hugs this holiday season.
Jane says:
Heather, I have learned so much from you. Thank you.
Tracy says:
You are such a beautiful person. And like the comment above, I have learned so much from you. It’s an honor to share in the life of your family through reading your blog.
Molly says:
You are doing great! Your kids are so lucky to have you.
Mary says:
Beautiful.
Elizabeth says:
My mother’s baby brother died when he was 7 months and she was 6. The month of his death has always been a hard one for my grandmother and mother, but his presence has never been forgotten. It is a fine line to tread, but life is about sorrow and joy. The two co-exist as you articulate so well. Annabelle and James will know how much you love them and love their sister, Maddie. You are right to share your sadness with them as they become old enough to understand it. *hugs*
Lora says:
I appreciate very much that you share your thoughts and feelings on living with grief. Life is complicated and messy, and I want to read about all aspects of it. I read your blog every day, and your family has touched my heart. I think about Maddie often–I’m reminded of her every day when I read your blog–and I think it’s really great how there is a post about her every little bit. You are a wonderful mother.
Sharon says:
I know exactly how you feel, I too have a hard time moving from being excited for my other three girls to feeling total despair that we have to celebrate minus our precious Lauren. It truly is a fine line to walk without falling off.
I think of your amazing family often and you bring a smile to my face looking at your children’s faces. But like you there is always one missing in our photos.
Merry Christmas!
Sara says:
Really great post, Heather. Thank you for writing it. I needed to read it this morning. I have a dear friend who is fighting for his life currently. We are all praying for a miracle, but it is a sad realization that this time next year, we may not have him around. I think it’s an important message and sadness and happiness are so intertwined in our every day lives. Thank you again and I wish you and your family the most wonderful of Christmases and lots of wonderful memories of the ones you miss. xo
Liz says:
Reading posts like this reminds me of how very precious life is – how wonderful and terrible and messy and beautiful it is all at the same time. What a gift to read this blog and its story of resiliency and love. Sometimes life is sad – there is no changing that, and learning how to be sad is really hard, but inevitable in order to be a whole and healthy person. You are doing an amazing job Heather–as a mother and as a person. Thank you for chronicling it all for your readers.
Molly says:
Your ability to embrace all your feelings even when you’ve suffered such tremendous losses is an inspiration to me. Your post reminds me of Kahlil Gibran–I think you’re right on the money noticing how close joy and sorrow are as emotions:
“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
amourningmom says:
Thank you extra for this post Heather! The holidays are so hard it is hard to explain but you have done it perfectly. Leading this double life is exhausting. I have to admit I am having a lot of trouble this December. The rationale part of me recognizes that we are Jewish and I miss Jake and Sawyer everyday. However, Sawyer was born the week before Thanksgiving and died Christmas night.
Your post really helps this struggling mama. Thank you again. Sending hope and hugs. xo
Christina says:
I think your posts will really help people going through something similar. They give people the freedom to be feeling the same because I think guilt and self-doubt and questioning happen to everyone and that’s not what you need to be dealing with ON TOP of the intense mix of grief and joy. Not all of us have the tools or inclination to share like this, so thank you. I don’t know about what you said, that people don’t want to hear it (maybe some have told you that flat out?). I love human stories, the good, the bad and the ugly! I actually get easily overloaded with the “blessed,” “blissful,” “joyful,” stuff easily. I like that too but I like variety and connecting with people on multiple levels. That’s why I love the blog world and thank you for sharing yours in such a poignant, beautiful way.
Pattie says:
Having read your blog for years now, I’ve never, ever doubted how much you love all your kids. And I think that being honest with them about your complicated feelings is a great way to teach them that things aren’t always black and white: We can be happy while we’re sad, excited while we’re scared, and so on. I hope you get some solace from each and every one of those extra hugs and kisses.
Jess says:
My gran and I were very close. She’s been gone 10 years. When something exciting happens, or I’m sad, I still want to call her. Last month I got engaged and she was the first person I wanted to call. I couldn’t. Kind of hurts to know she won’t be helping me pick out a dress or help me calm my nerves, or tell my mom for the umpteenth time it’s *my* wedding.
I don’t know exactly what you’re going through but since my gran died of cancer at 68 I can agree, cancer sucks. And to lose those we love sucks harder. And holidays are sad without them. I’ll always miss my gran, going to movies with her, spending the night with her, just talking with her. But your kids are lucky. They will always know how lived they are, they will always have stories of Maddie, Jackie, and Aunt Kathy. And they will grow up to be wonderful caring individuals. Because you and Mike are so loving and caring. And go that extra mile. Don’t forget that.
Auntie_M says:
I think you walk this tight rope line with amazing Grace. Not only is it a gift to your children to see that life is made up of good, bad mediocre, wildly wonderful, and horribly heart breaking events, I think it is a tremendous gift for them to see that while “life goes on,” loved ones are never forgotten and are carried forward with us. To see that their sister always is and always will be loved and missed forever, shows them your great capacity for love…that you will love them just as much forever and always is quite the gift indeed.
LD's Mom says:
“I think you walk this tight rope line with amazing grace.” This expresses my thoughts precisely. Your kids are lucky to have you and Mike, and you both are lucky to have the three of them. It is so cool to get to share in this love that you all have as a family, even if just as a reader looking in. Merry Christmas!
ColleenMN says:
I think you are doing exactly what you should be doing – just taking it day to day and doing the best you can possibly do. Some days you’re up, and some days you’re down. We can all do only what we are capable of and that has to be good enough. I think you are doing an awesome job and I would even say you are far above the mark than most that have been served up your plate. Congratulate yourself and know that your loved ones know how hard you try to keep moving.
Jeanie says:
You’re doing a wonderful job with your children. We all have had our losses, but yours with Maddie is definitely more than I’ve had to go through. My mom died unexpectedly on December 21 seven years ago. Presents half wrapped, some baking done, tree up, etc., etc. And one of my best friends from high school (some 50+ years ago!) found out yesterday that her daughter’s cancer is back.
Violet says:
I’ve had similar thoughts on my mind this week. Last week I flew in as a surprise to see my Dad for Christmas, and less than 12 hours later he passed away. My little 6 year old and 2 month old nephew are our families sunshine during this bittersweet time. The 6 year old asks every day “Is Ampa watching me in heaven? Do you remember he went to be with Jesus?” We smile and hug and kiss, but also allow him to see the tears and the sadness and tell him it’s okay to miss Ampa, and that’s why we are sad. We miss Ampa.
Heather says:
Oh Violet, I am so sorry to hear about your dad! My heart and thoughts are with you.
edenland says:
I love how you write about grief hon, in the everyday.
I’m quite dreading Christmas. But my blonde ray of sunshine is losing his SHIT over it. So excited.
xxxx
Paula says:
(((((Heather))))) Your grief is palpable in this post. I am so happy for you that you have your blog and the love that surrounds you to help you, and Mike, during the tougher times of grief. I miss my brother a lot this year. I visit his daughters a lot and we talk about him, share stories, and hugs. I wish all of you the best always.
Susan says:
Heather, I appreciate your posts on grief because I don’t think we talk enough about how something so important, so life changing affects are day to day lives. Grief is different for everyone and I personally have to say that the worst grief has to be losing a child. It just has to be and I can’t fathom it. You and your family have walked (and continue to) some dark days and lighting the path for some in sharing your experiences. I said “see ya later” (not goodbye) to my Dad last December 14th after battling brain cancer for 44 days. We didn’t have time to breath. This year has sucked, plain and simple as I have had to deal with grief and helping mom. This holiday is obviously better than last but the stomach punching grief flares its ugly head here and there. I am finding fun as you talk about but I have to say I will be glad when the holidays are over. Merry Christmas.
Jerilynn says:
Heather, your beautiful quote reminded me of the word s of Kahlil Gibran. “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
It’s not that we’re looking to sustain some happiness permanency, but yet to better understand that there are scales within us and the joy and sorrow are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”
Your post address this same sentiment with grace, honesty and courage, and the children you take joy in now are better people for that. Thinking of you . . .
Rebecca says:
We were planning to tell our families about my (very unexpected) pregnancy on Christmas day. I was so excited. I even imagined I felt the baby moving (silly I know at 13 weeks) We just came from the scan having been told there is no heartbeat and the chances of my conceiving again are basically nil. Other than being very sad and heart-broken, I’m afraid that I will never be able to enjoy this time of year again. That it will always be associated with this sadness and loss. I know your family has suffered on a much, much larger scale and I just wanted to let you know I think you are a wonderful mother who does absolutely everything possible for her children. You are my hero.
Heather says:
Oh Rebecca, I am so terribly sorry to hear about your loss. My heart is with you as you navigate this. Be kind to yourself and let me know if there is anything I can do. Lots of love xoxo
Tammy M. says:
You do such a good job of putting feelings into words. I think it would be impossible not to think of Maddie when you are making wonderful new memories with Annie and James. You love all your babies. And I know they feel it.
Cakinator says:
Reminds me of a quote I like from Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles – “So the two forces were at work here as everywhere, the inherent will to enjoy, and the circumstantial will against enjoyment.”
Jenn says:
Hello My Friend,
You know Ellen said something last week on her show when she was interviewing Lea Michele that I will NEVER forget. They were talking about loss and heart break and she explained at one point in her own life when her own heart was breaking a friend said something like this to her….”When your heart breaks and there are cracks everywhere, it is those cracks that let the light in”. I thought the quote was both Beautiful and Profound and I instantly thought of you and my other friend who lost her 10 month old daughter. I hope in this time of both celebration and sorrow it will bring you even a little bit of solace. I also want you to know, even though I do live so far away, I will ALWAYS be there for you Heather and I will ALWAYS listen to your hurt even if others don’t want to. Thank you for sharing your feelings – your joy and your sorrow. You’re an excellent mama and I believe you and Mike are giving your kids an AMAZING, MAGICAL and FUN childhood. Life isn’t fair….not by a long shot but you are doing such a good job balancing the good and the bad and gently teaching your babies even in the darkest of times there is always a little bit of light that finds it’s way in through those fragile, heart breaking cracks. Sending you all cyber hugs and friendship and support from here!xoxo
Lora says:
Perfectly written. I have no doubt someday these very words will actually help your children understand, when they are old enough to read them.
Heather B. says:
There are moments when I’m talking with you via text or in person where I wonder how you do it. Honestly. I’m like how is she standing here having this conversation with the GIFs and the nonsense and (my) debauchery? I suppose you just do it because you have to survive and, as you said, your sadness coexists with everything else in your life. It truly is amazing and a gift to witness.
Alexis says:
I don’t think I have ever commented… been reading since Maddie was born.
I lost my mom when I was 27 and my babies were almost 2 and 6 months old. Not the same loss as yours of Maddie but a devastating loss. I struggle with how to merge the reality that I miss my mother, that it’s not fair that my children do not know their grandmother, that she would be so lovely with them, with the other reality that they do not remember her and do not know how she would have made their lives different because we don’t not know what we don’t know.
I love this post about balancing it all. It’s OK to be both happy and sad.
Hugs to you and your family and thanks for sharing your lives.
Expat Mom says:
I’m continually amazed at how well you guys do with raising your little ones while the big one is in Heaven. It’s not an easy thing, it’s something that I can’t imagine having to get through, but you are doing a great job. Annie and James are so lucky to have you guys to keep Maddie’s memory alive for them.
Molly says:
Parenting: You’re doing it right. I promise.
Love you very much.
Sherry says:
Catching up on your posts this afternoon…just wanted to say so. I have nothing to offer other than the fact that you and your family (especially you…a mother to another mother) are in my thoughts. I never know what to write here in your comments…grrrr. Wished you didn’t have the sadness and loss that you do, but duh, everyone wishes that for you. Nonetheless, Merry Christmas Heather.