What does Christmas spirit mean as a survivor? I imagine it’s unique for each of us. The first Christmas after my daughter died, if you asked, I’d have answered that the Christmas spirit died with her. Even during that first dark, endless Christmas day, there was a little Christmas spirit in the form of a tiny white being that I thought was a moth. Approaching the fifth Christmas, I’m convinced it was more than a moth. It was a bit of Christmas spirit. It was tiny and bright white, flew in patterns, and would appear and disappear. Never circled the lights or displayed any moth-like behavior. My wife saw it too. When it appeared, the darkness lifted, and we watched it perform its delicate dance. I haven’t seen anything like it before or since.
Five years later, what is Christmas spirit for me? I can define what it’s not. It’s not lighting up your house until it can only be viewed through a welding hood. It’s not going into debt to outdo last year’s gift pile under the tree. It’s not parents brawling on black Friday to get the last “must-have” gift for their kid. It’s not attending the annual company Christmas party where people pretend to be friends, and a few invariably drink way too much. (BTW, I’m proud to say my record of NOT attending the annual debacle is intact at 25) And for the love of God, it’s not blasting Christmas music starting on Halloween. I could go on; the list is endless.
The best example I can remember of Christmas spirit goes back more than 100 years to the gruesome madness of World War I trench warfare. On Christmas Eve, both sides began singing carols, and eventually, a couple of brave souls ventured out into no man’s land. Soon, everyone was mingling and observing Christmas in brotherhood and peace. After, they defied the orders of the generals and refused to kill each other. I get chills whenever I remember this Christmas truce. Christmas spirit triumphant over insanity.
The Christmas spirit isn’t usually that dramatic. Doesn’t need to be. It’s waving to a car that is trying to enter traffic in front of you. The spirit lives when I wave at a toddler, and they smile at me. Small, random acts of kindness. The spirit lives in hospital workers and EMS personnel who are away from their own families on Christmas, serving others in their care. The Christmas spirit is alive in this Alliance of Hope Forum, where people in need help one another through the darkness and the extra-painful holiday season.
My fifth Christmas will be a quiet affair. Treating it like any other day works best for me. I don’t have extended family, so I’m spared the conundrum of attending events against my will or respectfully declining. I’ll light a candle and reflect on the Christmases spent with Kelly and the Christmas spirit we had as a family. I’ll make time to remember why we observe Christmas. The promise that I will be with Kelly again. The chance that there can be peace on earth. There will be more peaceful moments during this fifth Christmas than the misery that was the first.
Each of us will find our own unique way through Christmas Day. However you get through the day isn’t right or wrong, it just is. For those experiencing their first Christmas in the aftermath of suicide, I am so sorry. You will find your way, and each Christmas after will be a little gentler. May we all experience some Christmas spirit, if only for a moment. May we all find a little peace.
