Meaning in Things

For some, the holidays can be hard, really hard. In the backdrop of all the holly-jolly, the eggnog and cookies, the faith-filled choral music, and Christmas carolers spreading good cheer through glittered neighborhoods, there are those of us who can’t help but feel a little sad as we think of loved ones we’ve lost over the past year. I lost my father in September, and my mother-in-law the day before Thanksgiving. So how do we manage our sadness, let ourselves be with the pain as it comes, often in unexpected ways and at unexpected moments? Things. There is meaning in things, not random any-old things, but things that keep us close and connected to those we wish were still here. For me, there is meaning in the necklace my father gave me for my birthday years ago, though that meaning didn’t become apparent to me until after he was gone. I remember feeling warmed by his gift at the time he gave it to me, warmed by how he had taken my grandmother’s pearl ring to a jeweler and had it made into a necklace for me. I don’t know why I didn’t wear it (maybe because it was so fragile), but I didn’t. I put it in my jewelry box and forgot all about it. Then, a few weeks ago, when I was going through old jewelry, I found the necklace coiled up in a knotted mess. Overwhelming emotion flooded through me as I carefully picked apart the knot then slipped on the necklace. At that moment, I missed my father more than I had in weeks. How strange it is that things like this mean so much more to us, (or is it just me that feels this way?) after a loved one is gone. Maybe it’s not as strange as we think. When we lose someone we love we do all we can, as in holding close to us certain meaningful things, to keep them alive, right? Unless it’s someone you’d prefer to forget, but I’ll save that topic for another day, maybe.

For my husband, he wears his mother’s hats she crocheted over the years. I wear them too. And we cuddle in her crocheted afghans. My husband also keeps left-over yarn she never had the chance to use, bakes Christmas cookies using her hand-me-down recipes, sings her favorite songs, and listens to recordings of her voice.

Sometimes things carry weight, emotional weight, but how lucky we are to have them at all, to know, for instance, that the necklace, the hats and afghans, the recipes, you name it, are present and enduring.

If you’re among the grieving this holiday season, I hope you too have that one (or two or three) meaningful things by your side to help you manage through the loss and pain and sadness.

And please remember …

I’m on your side.