When It Rains, It Pours

I remember hearing “the holidays are hard.” I had no idea how hard, especially when the holidays are a pivot point in losing someone.

The saying goes: When it rains, it pours. Well, with the drizzled onslaught of fall at my doorstep—and all the memories that come flooding back with it—I have a new appreciation for that phrase.

Last year at this time, Sue was here. Not just here on Earth, but physically HERE, in my house. Her fleece, book, robe, and slippers await where she left them in our guest room. Her e-mail about how excited she was to visit still sits expectantly in my inbox. Memories of my daughter’s first Halloween, jack-o-lantern, and costume all come along with Sue, smiling (and for the first time visibly ill) in their ranks.

When I heard “the holidays are hard,” I remember thinking, “They just haven’t gotten over it yet,” as if grieving were a disease to be cured. It’s more like being reborn without skin or growing an appendage overnight and trying to figure out how to maneuver through life with that in tow.

But the truth is, I’d rather have Sue in tow than not, no matter how painful “the missing” is. Tomorrow we have our seventh-annual “Pumpkin Day“—a personally created Iron-Chef-like holiday of which Sue was a participant and perhaps its biggest fan. I almost feel like we constructed personal bits of happiness like Pumpkin Day, knowing the residual joy they would bring her. If that’s true, I have no reason to believe that death would impede that conduit of happiness. If so, Happy Pumpkin Day, Sue. You will be missed.

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4 thoughts on “When It Rains, It Pours

  1. I remember the first holiday season after my Mom passed away one of the toughest times of my life. It felt like every family tradition was something that she inspired, and all of the sudden, it was up to the rest of us to keep those traditions alive. But it’s been 11 years since she died and I’ve managed to incorporate some of her favorite traditions into my own life. Every year, David and I have a pumpkin carving contest and roast the seeds, simply because she loved it so much. And I’ll always decorate my mantel with real garland at Christmas in her honor.

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