Thanksgiving Day ~from 11/26/98~

It’s Thanksgiving Day, and even though I am grateful for many things, I am besieged by my memories of last year, the day I took my last picture of Seth and little Lora.  I am filled with an emptiness. What a paradox, to be filled with emptiness!

And I remember playing cards with him and the family.  And we had so much fun! He had stayed longer than usual.  He was happy to be with us. And I was so glad to see him moving out of his introversion, in which he always retreated to after the holiday meal, back into his solitude.

As I prepared to bring the candles to my brother and sister-in-law’s house to the meal, I had to face the physical absences in our family.  After my dad died over 6 years ago, I had been in a grief group that had suggested placing a lit candle at the table to represent your loved one being with you in spirit.

Three years later, we had two candles, one for Dad, and one for my cousin’s wife, Ginny, who had been like a big sister to me since I was a kid.  We had spent every holiday together since she started going steady with my cousin, thirty-some years ago. At fifty-one, she had died in a car accident.

Two years to the day later, my dear Uncle Joe died.  He had also spent holiday meals with us, and was always so good to me.

Five months after that, my dear, sweet, little Aunt Fran died, after many painful years with rheumatoid arthritis.  We didn’t want her to continue to suffer, but her absence leaves a hole in our lives.

And four months later, eight months ago today, my Seth died at the age of twenty-one as a result of a auto accident. Three deaths in nine months is what we have endured.  No wonder it seems so sad.

Only two weeks after Seth died, we celebrated our first holiday, Easter.  And that’s when I realized how devastating five deaths in our small family was.  There were five candles in the room with us.

We are going to be okay.  But, sometimes, I just feel like crying and crying, because I miss my “missing” family.  And I still have trouble believing that Seth is really gone from this world. He was my baby.  I nursed him and sang to him and played with him. He was grown and happy and I just feel cheated somehow.  I can’t help it. It’s the way I feel. I guess i have a LOT more crying to do. That’s just the way it is.

God help me if I just can’t be thankful all the time.  I want to, but this Thanksgiving has been hard. The grandchildren were a total delight!  And I love my wonderful family so much. My husband and daughter, and mother, and brother, and sister-in-law and cousins and guests were all so sweet and the day was so nice.

But I just couldn’t stay any longer.  I had to be able to sit and cry, and not try to hold myself together anymore.  I know they understand.

I wish I could find the peace that I know is here, within my own heart.  But today, my grief has engulfed me in a dark cloud of sadness, because I long for what can never be again.