These tinsel days of December

Let us fashion hopeful hearts

In the face of hopelessness,

Adding our annual plea for peace

Though the world is in pieces.

Let us strive to go beyond  

Barriers of bigotry,

For no one is all black or white

Despite contagious hatred

We are discolored by.

‘Tis the season!  May festive lights

Illuminate ourselves as well!

(Memorize this futile prayer

 We’ll need again next year.)

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Holiday hint: “ROLE PLAY” and “ARISING” make enjoyable gifts! At BookBaby and Amazon.

Website: www.annehosansky@gmail.com

“You are invited…”
Two weeks after my husband died I accepted an invitation to a dinner party. It wasn’t that I wanted to go, but I couldn’t bear being alone in my empty apartment. The guests included old friends who had known my husband. Yet through the entire dinner he was never mentioned. Then as dessert time came jokes began to a chorus of boisterous laughter. I trained my lips to curve upward, but after one of the jokes I blurted out, ”Mel would have enjoyed that one.” Utter silence . Then the host said, ”Let’s keep this light.”
That was decades ago, but indelible. I was angry but also felt that as just half of a couple I had spoiled their fun. I spoke about that night countless times and reaped what I wanted: sympathy. But playing the victim role isn’t helpful in the long run. So when the following Christmas season loomed I told my bereavement counselor I was going to ignore the entire month of December. “How are you going to ignore your feelings?” he asked. I realized the answer wasn’t in running awa6, but toward what would genuinely help.
I also realized that my host hadn’t been intentionally cruel. Thoughtless, yes, but the reality for all of us on both sides of bereavement is that we often can’t find the right words. The sight of someone in mourning brings up fears about our own mortality and that of our loved ones. “Sorry for your loss” is a cliché , but it’s better than dismissing someone’s pain.
I’m thinking about this now as we face another holiday sea
son. For anyone who has lost a loved one, this is a tough time. But we make it tougher for ourselves when we go somewhere just to avoid being alone. I happily accept invitations to be with people I genuinely enjoy seeing, but I no longer say yes out of fear. This reminds me of a widow I interviewed who was advised that she should get out of her “comfort zone” and accept a New Year’s invitation. “I went reluctantly because I never liked large parties even when my husband went with me,” she said. “ As midnight came near I saw the couples reaching for one another. I’m ashamed to say I hid in the bathroom..” Ever since then she’s deliberately been alone New Year’s Eve, but there’s a big difference between alone and all one “I order in my favorite snacks, splurge on a bottle of expensive wine, stock up on movies, and have a perfectly good time,” she says. She echoes the surprising number of women who make festive solo evenings. *I enjoy my own company,” is a common refrain. ( Men generally seem dependent on having a companion.). I’m not advocating being a recluse ,but knowing ourselves well enough to reach for what we genuinely choose.
As a postscript I bless the memory of a friend whose holiday invitation I was afraid to accept because, I confided, the guests would be all couples. She shot back, “.So what? Aren’t you a whole person? “
That’s the reminder we should all give ourselves!