sherrillee

Blue Christmas

I'll have a Blue Christmas without you
I'll be so blue thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't be the same, if you're not here with me And when those blue snowflakes start fallin'
And when those blue melodies start callin'
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white,
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas

Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't be the same, if you're not here with me
I'll have a Blue Christmas that's certain
And when that blue heartache starts hurtin'
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white,
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas

For those struck by tragedy, the most wonderful time of the year can be a season of pain.

Everything tells you that you're supposed to be happy and excited and getting ready for Christmas, and there is just this place inside of you that says, I'm just not there.

Coping may be as easy as having an annual "Blue Christmas", a time of peaceful reflection - and a refuge from the bright lights and shopping mall Santas. A friend of mine started the tradition ten years ago when her mother passed away. This year, I held my first last weekend.

My guests came for many reasons. Some were grieving a loved one, others were suffering with a serious illness, a love lost, or financial loss. Any of the host of things that can make life difficult any time can make it a lot worse at Christmas. Rather than try to bury that sadness in Yuletide cheer it is important for people to talk about their pain with others.

Because I have been through difficult Christmases, I know how difficult they can be. So I am not going to tell anyone that this is just going to pass, that you need to pull up your socks and get on with it, because that is not helpful, realistic or cathartic.

Following my friend's tradition, I gave each guest a chance to share their grief. As they shared, all my guests poured water into a bowl, kind of as a symbol of tears.

Those grieving a loved one at Christmas often find it comforting to spend time with others in the same situation. You are in the company of other people who are grieving as well, and I think there is comfort in knowing that you are not alone in feeling this way over the holidays.

During the ceremony, my guests hung cards on our outside Christmas tree in memory of their loved ones. We all sipped cocoa and cider as the tree was lit. This ritual provides a way to make the lost loved one part of the holidays. Some sang some carols that were meaningful to them and eventually all of us chimed in as the darkness of evening enveloped us.

With my friend, her guests have come back year after year. For some it has become a family tradition. I think that sense of ritual helps to accept and express the emotions that come up. I have already been asked by some of my guests if we will do this next year - they would like to come again - and others have indicated that they too will be starting this tradition with their families.

It may be helpful to get rid of some Christmas rituals, especially if they've become too painful. Think about your traditions. Sometimes traditions are good to continue, and sometimes it is good to do something completely different when you are grieving. I know that the first few years after my parents had passed away, I was unable to participate in decorating for Christmas. This year I was ready to pull out my ornaments again.

It is common for those who have lost someone to feel guilty if they find themselves enjoying Christmas. My advice is to allow yourself to experience happiness. Take care of yourself. It sounds very cliche, but it tends to be the first thing to go out the window.

If you're feeling that disconnect between what you see on the TV or in the magazine and the storefront and your life, maybe you need to find some ways to get perspective - volunteering, meeting other people, connecting with someone who might be alone for the holidays - so that you feel you are doing something positive. Or start your own Blue Christmas tradition.

At the close of my Blue Christmas this year, I invited each of my guests to light a candle.

To quote from the Psalms, the message is hope because, "weeping may endure the night, but joy cometh in the morning."

I hope that all of you understand why I shared this private tradition with you. It seems that this year came with a lot of loss for a lot of people. And whether the loss was recent or in the past, it is valid to feel pain for it. I hope that by sharing this tradition, some of you may find some solace - a coping mechanism - to get you through this season.