Tag: death

Posted in Moments and Musings

My Christmas Carol

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

Driving around, taking care of some errands the other day with my daughter, Shelby, and she turned on some Christmas music. The Little Drummer Boy by the Harry Simeone Chorale came on. I was instantly transformed to being 10 and sitting alongside my mom in the car listening to her sing along. This was always her favorite Christmas carol.

This year marks the 5th year celebrating the holiday season without my mother. I miss her. I miss her excitement at having the family together. I miss her making her grocery shopping lists only to still go up and down each aisle “just in case I forgot something”.

I miss her voice. Her presence. Her very nature which turned my house into a home for so many years. I miss the way she’d have a story to tell about the ornaments we still put on our tree. I miss her stuffing, which is famous in my family. (This is my first year making it without her.) I miss her eyes lighting up at the idea of a night filled with Christmas movies and a bit of hot cocoa.

I commented to Shelby how much I hate having this love/hate relationship with the holidays. I love this time of year so very much. The cold weather. The fireplaces. The cinnamon. The cookies. The tree. Family gatherings. Dad’s magic Brandy Alexanders and “religious experience” cookies. I love it all!

But I hate that she’s not here. And so much has changed for me this year. My daughter became a wife and my mother wasn’t here to see it. I’m getting my life ready to buy a house which is something I haven’t done since I was married. So many changes, big and small and she’s not here for any of it. Somehow, I feel it more acutely at Christmas time.

People say, “this is life and you have just keep moving forward” and I do. Lots ahead. Grandbabies to come some day. A new home to build. Family outings and trips to take. That’s in addition to the day to day living I get to do quite comfortably surrounded by the love of my family.

So this year, like the 4 behind me and the many ahead of me, I’ll hold her memory tightly to my chest and let it be a salve to my heart. I’ll put up the tree. Make her stuffing. Hang ornaments, both new and old. I’ll pull out THE family cookie recipe and make a batch or two with Hallmark Christmas movies playing on the big screen.

And I’ll remember her, over and over again. Yet in the midst of the pain, there will be peace.

Who knows? I just might pull out one of her silly Christmas vests she used to wear.

Yes, I know it’s blurry but this was the best Christmas photo I have of her.
Posted in Bookish and Bingeable

How To Make Friends With the Dark

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

By: Kathleen Glasgow

I lost my mom unexpectedly 4 years ago. Every unspoken thought, every emotion I couldn’t name or couldn’t face, every fear and anxiety unvoiced all came floating to the surface for me in this book. I can’t remember a time when I’ve highlighted or annotated so much. In fact, I’ve never annotated any book I’ve ever read outside of for a class.

It was for these very reasons I found myself unable to turn the page yet I couldn’t stop myself from reading on. Kathleen Glasgow reached into my heart, took all my grief and allowed it to manifest in this story. Oddly enough, and without planning it, I read this just around the time of the anniversary of losing my mother.

A few highlights resonated with me:

“I don’t understand how things keep going when she has just stopped.”

The weirdest thing in the world to me was driving home from the hospital and not really understanding how no one else was affected by this but my family. For everyone else, it was just a regular, every day Friday and they were doing what they’d always done. For me, however, my whole world just shut down.

“I want to hurt everyone right now. I want to break things so the world looks like how I feel inside…”

I remember going to Kohl’s to buy a blouse for Mom to wear to her funeral. The lovely cashier told me to have a wonderful day. I remember fighting the urge to punch her in the face. My mother just died. And she wasn’t supposed to so I wasn’t sure how I was going to have a good day, good week, good month, good year, good life. Of course, I gave a weak smile, took my bag and left.

“I need my mother to come get me, to save me from the fast that my mother is dead.”

This is one of those gold nuggets I knew I felt in the earliest stages of grief but didn’t have words until I read this book. I prayed for this many times. It’s the only prayer that was never answered.

And then there’s….

“I miss my mother so much right now it’s loud inside me, like the worst thunder, the kind the shakes the windows, shoves the side of your house, makes you feel unsafe.”

It took two solid years and moving closer to family before I finally felt safe again. It’s a new experience for me. Only when I felt safe was I able to begin to heal.

I almost feel like this should be required reading for anyone who has lost something, especially unexpectedly. Grief is long and terrible and deep and painful and has its own timeline. You cannot rush it, push it, skip over it or wish it away. It is inevitable. It will let you know when it’s done with you. And those who’ve never lost someone cannot and will not ever understand this.

This book is deep and so very personal. And I’m so thankful to Ms. Glasgow for sharing it with the world and with me.

My rating: :star: :star: :star: :star: :star: