Finding Joy in "The New Normal"

Christmas has just passed. It's a beautiful time of year. People are often their best selves .  Even the news channels take time to show heartfelt stories of generosity. I used to love Christmas, all that it embodied. As a child Christmas was either magnificent or non existent. My father , the love of my mothers life, died when I was 4 . He left  a 22 year old widow with 2 children. Some years we would have a lovely Christmas  my mom would be happy ,well. family ,presents and a tree. I relished those years. In other times my mother racked with grief and untreated mental illness just couldn't get it together. She would go to bed and not get up. Some Christmases simple just didn't come. I held the best ones in my heart.

I promised myself when I had children they would have wonderful Christmases. Our traditions were mine,  made up years before I had the boys. I would fantasize about my future happy family.  I watched other families and I took silent notes.  I was blessed , my boys gave me  exactly what I longed for. The family I dreamt of. The warm glow of togetherness was especially powerful during Christmas. We cut down trees,shopped for underprivileged children. went caroling had hot cocoa. There were parties, Christmas movies, cookies and decorations. Everything I wanted as a child became real for me as an adult.  Eventually we became part of Mikes large Italian family. Christmas was grand.  I loved Christmas the looks on the boys faces when they opened the perfect gift. Every year one of them would make something so sweet,  I would cry, the good kind of full heart tears.

When My oldest son died I just couldn't bear Christmas.It seemed the family I cherished was over. We had no tree. We opened presents at Mikes house. Christmas couldn't come here. The memories were far to painful to even acknowledge. To me Christmas couldn't exist without all of us together.  It took years before I could decorate at all,  I finally did. I didn't open our treasured ornaments. I gave most to David and kept only the most special ones. I purchased a few new things and just got through it. I actually hated Christmas. The dread would sweep over me at the first sight of holiday decorations. I couldn't bear the thought of buying my boys 2 sweaters not 3.  Christmas carols brought pain. Seriously is it necessary for department stores to play I'll be home for Christmas and A Blue Christmas,  back to back every 20 or so minutes? The loss over whelmed me and still does at times during the holiday season. Some years I would stay home to cry alone. How could I smile when my precious baby was taken from me? How could I ever go on?


When Ryan passed It became clear I had missed too much of Ryan's last few years. I was my mom a dark cloud on Christmas. I didn't even remember the first few Christmas's after Gavy, it was just a blur of sadness. I still bought gifts for my boys , decorated Mikes house and had a huge Marcelli family party but I wasn't really there. I was somewhere else missing Gavy., longing for our Christmas .I had no idea I was missing Ryan's last Christmas. All I saw was what was lost .  I cried alone and did my best to pretend for David and Ryan's sake. I didn't do a very good job. Dave later told me he knew how much I hated the holidays. They were hurting too, I wasn't strong enough to be joyful. I wish I
could have those years back,  thats not  the way it works. We don't get to go back. The only options are forward or standing still.



 I decided , with only one son left , he was no longer going to feel abandoned because his brothers are gone. I tried my best to enjoy the holidays.  It's been a lot of work, gut wrenching work.  This year I actually did enjoy Christmas. I can't say it was the beautiful family warmth , I had in the past but I did enjoy it. Starting last year we made lots of great new traditions. I added several more this year. At first they feel forced but eventually they will be ours.  The traditions my grandchildren will remember and pass on. My favorite is the angels under the tree. Two little boy statues and two angels, keeping Gavin and Ryan part of our new holidays.  The new normal. not a holiday missing it's participants, not sad emptiness but a whole new family Christmas. The old Christmas is safely tucked in our hearts. It was happy and beautiful . We have a new Christmas to make new beautiful memories.

I made a conscious effort to find  this new holiday. I still miss the old days but I made room for new light, new love, new joy.  I purchased a white tree and made blue ornaments. No more red and green. We took the grandchildren to visit Christmas light exhibits and made plans to have our own special  Christmas on New Years Eve.  This way , I don't compete for my families attention on Christmas day. Dave and his little family can go where they need to without guilt.

My grandchildren are each born near Christmas ,so we added birthday celebrations to our holiday entourage. It's busy crazy busy.  Once my house was decorated, I showed my sweet 4 year old grandson and 3 year old granddaughter. My granddaughter loved the understated elegance of my tree but not my grandson.  Instead he said " Nazzy your tree makes me sad. It doesn't have colors. "My boys loved colored lights. I personally don't. As they got older I tried to change our tree to white lights but they protested.  I already decorated the outside of the house in white and that was enough for them. They wanted color , now this little guy carries on where his uncles left off.  Knowing he is coming over on New years eve to celebrate , I made myself open old boxes. I pulled out our stockings and hung them on our Peace stocking hanger.  I adorned my mantle with colored lights and put up the village my boys had loved.

Our village was a great family game They made all sorts of crazy stories up about the village and it's people. We would laugh , each adding an elaborate twist to their ceramic lives. One year there was a murder in the village. The postman was found headless and many villagers were suspect.  It's funny as I unpacked the people, each of their life stories came to me. The light keeper that got a nasty divorce, the toy shop owner that was our number one murder suspect, the grandmother that did charity works and owned lots of cats. We're an odd family, with irreverent senses of humor, I miss that.

 I cried the day I opened the boxes but it was nice to see vestiges of our happy family . I had forgotten some of the really awful ornaments the boys picked. Each year we took turns picking an ornament. In their teen years they tried to find the worst possible. One year, in a beautiful upscale Christmas shop,  Gavin found a croccodile with a  mans legs dangling from it's mouth. I tried everything to convince him it just wasn't appropriate for a holy holiday. At 12,  this only made him want it more. I was out voted and the croc became a family favorite. I laughed when I saw it this year.  The memories flooding back to me. My 12 year old son smirking with delight.

 I listened to Christmas music and reminded myself how lucky I am . I have a family , it's not all of the people I wish were here,  but they deserve to have me. happy Christmas me. So I'm working on it. I want my grandchildren to remember how much their grandmother loved Christmas.
Next year,  I'll get brave enough to open the other boxes. These are not just my memories , they are the memories of their dads childhood. The past that their lives are based on. I am the keeper of the stories and I intend to tell them.

Sometimes,  its really sad here in the new normal. I don't know if I will ever feel Christmas they way I once did. I don't know if I'll ever feel anything the way I once did. I will however,  give it my best effort because they are worth it. This is the family I have now,
I am grateful. This is still a life worth celebrating.  Happy new Year Everyone

I'm still standing I guess theres nothing to do but keeping walking forward....

This is my first post thank you for joining me. If you are here because you have lost a child , I am so sorry, there are no words to express the compassion and empathy I feel for you. My hope is that through this blog there will be healing.  I pray my story helps you as others stories helped and continue to heal me.



This chapter of my story started in 2006 , when my oldest son was 24. I divorced in 1994 , the boys dad lived in California so it was just us , here in Pa. We were very close being in a new place without family or friends. Starting again together forged an exceptional bond. Gavin was the oldest and often took his little brothers under his wing. I relied on him he could always be trusted.
I was proud of Gavin and deeply enjoyed his company and opinions.  Gavin was bright accomplished and funny, really really funny.  I felt like I had done a good job . He was a good kind man.  We , my three boys, Michael my fiancee and myself were a family, although Michael never lived with us.  We spent lots of family time together. We became a part of Michaels large Italian family.  These were good days. I didn't know until later how good they were, how blessed I was then.

When the boys were 18, 19 and 24  Gavy would come home for a visits to catch up ,when he had a break from work.  He did just that one weekend in January, we hung out ,played board games , ate pizza, watched dumb movies, laughed , it was great.  The following  Friday I had a snow day off of work, Gavin and I got into a long discussion. I enjoyed that he was asking my advice. We were finally at the point where he liked my guidance.  Once we hung up I decided to call back , I rethought a comment ,  I had a weird feeling. Gavin didn't return my call. When his brothers called Saturday he still didn't return our calls.
It wasn't like him to ignore us. I was worried.  I drove to his apartment but he didn't answer the door. On Sunday I begged the police to open his apartment, they wouldn't. Everyone assumed he was with friends. When he didn't show up for work I knew something was terribly wrong.  We camped out at the police department insisting someone check on him. I was watching through the glass when I saw a woman stop laughing and look at directly at me. I knew then Gavy was gone. I saw the horror and pity in her face. The largest officer I have ever seen came out and took us into a court room. He simply said I'm sorry.  I don't remember screaming or going to the hospital but I couldn't stop screaming.

Our lives were plunged into unimaginable despair. I recounted in my mind over and over again our conversation . I couldn't understand what had happened.Was it something I said ? Was I to blame?Gavin was excelling at work, he loved caring for Autistic children and adults. he frequently brought a resident home for visits especially during the holidays.  He recently enrolled in grad classes and made a deposit on a vacation. He had money in the bank and his bills were paid. No drugs , no problems, a tidy apartment and plenty of friends. What happened to my son?  We will never know.  I mourned him by hibernating from the world.  I rarely wanted to leave my house. Nothing helped no one could help. I worked from home and refused most social engagements. There weren't enough tears . The white hot searing pain didn't ease.  I tried psychologists, books, groups all of it but the roller coaster of grief wouldn't let me off.

Casseroles , cookies and  friends came and went, after awhile no one knew what to say. Everyone wanted me back. I didn't know that girl anymore. Eventually,  I faked ok, so everyone could feel comfortable , but secretly wished I could join my beautiful boy. Life felt flat and flavorless. I was barely present.  I left my job, my church, my friends looking for a new normal. I got better at hiding the gaping wound but it just didn't heal.

I found a scientific spiritual study group. They met once a month for 8 hours there was home work and lots of discussions. It wasn't a grief group but I shared my pain and they listened without judgement.  Life started to get better. Telling the story honestly took a little of the sting out. I read other moms stories and chatted online to others that suffered before me. I finally felt myself looking forward to things and some of the darkness lifted. I reread some of the books I earlier tossed aside.
When the Bow Breaks  Forever by Judith R Bernstein resonated with me. I kept working, crying ,  reading praying I learned to live in the new normal. I found Comapssionate Friends and a UU minister Rev Ken,  that had sage advice. He seemed to understand what most others couldn't.

I started to smile when I thought of Gavy, his wit and charm warmed me .  I could talk about him without crumbling. There were still tears and bittersweet holidays but life was getting better.  My new life included lots of rescued farm animals, pottery and UU church involvement. Having someone need me again helped. My empty nest needed little ones to love.   I started to enjoy my boys again,  my middle son David got married and had a child. It was beautiful wedding. David has Cystic Fibrosis , a child for someone with his disease is rare. I didn't ever expect him to live long enough to get married. I felt blessed,  our grandson was a light a miracle , proof that we were moving forward that God wasn't cruel. The dark times still came but they were more manageable and less frequent. Mike and I planned to get married and I started to look forward to a different future.


















On August 12th 2011 my youngest son stopped by to see me. He was on his way to a party. It was rare for Ryan to just stop by I loved it. I warned him about drinking and driving.  He said "Mom no worries I am staying over."  He hugged me and said I love you mom", also rare.  Alcohol, drugs and antidepressants don't mix, Ryan passed in his sleep at his friends house. He was 24.  I was walking my dogs enjoying a beautiful day at a lake, when Mike called. He told me to come home , I thought my horse had been hurt. Ryan's  friends had called David . David went alone, shouldering it all by himself, before telling me. He saw his lifeless brother and collected Ryan's things from the police.  He still has the wounded look, I saw in his eyes, that first day. Ryan and David were 10 months apart,  same grade,  best friends. Gavin used to call them Dav-Ryan because he said they weren't actually two people but rather one.
                                                                                                                                 

                                                                 

                                                                  



Ryan's death was a concussion bomb , everything we built since Gavy passed,  imploded.  I missed my baby.  I didn't know if I could go on. It felt so unfair to lose two children. I was sad and angry.  I didn't know if I wanted to even try to heal this time.   I forced myself to pay attention,  digging  into all the resources I knew existed.   I promised myself that I wouldn't miss  my grandchildren's childhood mourning the children I couldn't get back. I missed so much of Ryan's life wishing Gavin was there and  I wasn't going to repeat that mistake again.


I take my grief work , as seriously as I have anything in my life. At the darkest times I didn't want to live,  so I saw a Dr , I shared the embarrassing truth. It helped. He helped , he had also lost a child. It's been 3 years now , the pain is sometimes unbearable but I promise it does get better.   I'm here I'm alive , I have a beautiful son, daughter in law  2 precious grandchildren and a great partner in Mike. My life is rich , not pain free but it's good. I've gained a lot from this journey and I take nothing for granted now. 

There is life after losing a child or children. Reach out, ask for help,  were here the soldiers that went before you.  We the members of this community are strong even if we don't know it.