When Christmas rolls around, I can’t help but think of my late husband, James, and the night he died on our ranch. He’d gone for a walk and when he wasn’t back in 30 minutes, I went looking for him. I knew in my gut something was wrong. It was dark out and below freezing. When I didn’t find him, I called our neighbors and told them to “hurry and bring lights.” Eventually they found him, next to his tractor, under his favorite grove of post oak trees. For almost three years, I ran on autopilot, cutting off my highs and lows, trying to live somewhere in the middle, but I’m grateful to say I’ve reached the point where I no longer grieve for what is lost.
I will always miss James. He’s a part of me. But this year, I don’t want to remember that night. I want to think of our home on the ranch and rejoice in how it changed our lives.
Our Little House was nestled under a canopy of huge live oak trees that surrounded the small 484-square-foot structure. The first day we saw it, most of the white exterior paint had peeled away. On the inside, the pine floors were painted navy blue and the walls were colors like turquoise, pink and sunshine yellow. At the time, the old wood house was well over 100 years old and had the original corrugated tin roof—a beautiful rust and golden patina that mingled with the patches of silver.
Sprinkled on the ground outside were large stretches of wild onions, tall stalks with vibrant purple flowers, planted by the Mexican workers who’d first lived there and worked on the ranch. You could tell it had always been a happy little house, and I liked to think babies were conceived and born there, and women made fresh tortillas and hung laundry while their men cleared cedar and raised cattle. Their lives were simple, but good, and I prayed James and I would be as fortunate, and we were.
It was the promise of a new life, free from breast cancer; an opportunity for us to create a home together, untouched by previous lives and the memories that came with them.
The Little House made me forget how tired my body was from breast cancer surgeries and chemotherapy. I chose new paint colors, carved out a kitchen, and downsized beds and chairs and tables to fit inside a house that was only 22 feet by 22 feet. A home we shared with three big indoor dogs.
James cut dozens of cedar trees in the canyon so the seasonal creek would flow better. He trimmed the skirts on the oak trees and cut walking paths along the back of the land. Together we planted new trees and shrubs around the house and built a stone patio and a winding front walk. But above all, we relished our time together. It was everything we’d hoped for and more, and now that he’s gone, those memories are safely tucked away where I can remember them at will.
The holidays are a tough time for many, but I sometimes like to think of this piece of wisdom from the 13th-century scholar and poet, Rumi.
“Don’t grieve for what is lost,
For the heart grows by breaking.
Each crack becomes a window for the light to enter.”
Be well my friends as you get ready for what I hope is a Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah. I hope it brings peace to everyone.
33 thoughts on “I NO LONGER GRIEVE FOR WHAT IS LOST”
My husband was only 60 when he died suddenly a few days before Christmas. It’s been many years but I still feel a nagging emptiness every year as I face December. Life goes on and I’m living a full and amazing life, but at this time of year I do miss him.
Peace to you. ❤️
And to you, Gray. You’re still dealing with grief and loss. Sending you lots of love, Brenda
Cathy, While we’ve moved on with our lives, we have the same empty hole that can never be replaced. I’m sorry you know what this feels like. xoxox, Brenda
My lovely husband was 62 when he passed away in December several years ago. I felt like half of me died with him, too, and in my case, it took me a fat three years to move past that feeling.
For myself, establishing new Christmas traditions has been key to letting go. While it hasn’t made my family happy, it was what I needed to do to move forward.
Thank you, Brenda, for this timely topic, which truly resonated with me, without making me sob or feel negative about myself.
Judy, grief takes time as you already know and kudos to you for doing what feels right for you. Wishing you a peaceful Christmas!
Hi Judy, Families, especially children, be they grown or younger, have a hard time letting their surviving parent move on and establish a life and traditions separate and apart from the parent they lost. I’m not sure I even understand this behavior in older “children” because they’re allowed to move on with their lives and yet no one considers that being “disloyal” or unfeeling. You’re in a tough position, and I’m glad you’re doing what’s best for you. Hopefully someday, the “kids” will get it. xoxox, Brenda
What a wonderful heartfelt story…..your life.
Thank you for sharing. My father died at 44 and till this day, I’m 76 there
is an emptiness that is unexplainable.
You move on, live life but there will always be that feeling of something missing.
Wishing you wonderful holidays and a very good life
I agree, Carol. Our loved ones who are no longer here will always be missed. Them and the days we wish we could have had with them. Blessings to you this season. xoxox, Brenda
What beautiful memories Brenda. I remember reading your breast cancer blog after James died and I cried along with you. And now you have a book coming out. James would be so proud of how you’ve rebuilt your life. Peace to you as well. Xo, Barb
Thanks, Barb. I hope so. Rebuilding your life after a death of a loved one or a challenging diagnosis is hard. Sometimes we’re not sure we can make it through to the other side, but it’s a good feeling when we do. Merry Christmas. xoxox, Brenda
My husband died 4 months ago. This will be a sad Christmas without him..reading your post gives me hope that there will be happier holidays in the future.
Bonita, so sorry for your loss. You’re doing the important work of grieving. The love of my life passed away 2 years ago Dec 1st and I miss him so much. It will be a sad Christmas for me also but there will be happier holidays in the future. It’s important to be with supportive people who will accept your grief and be there for you. I hope you are blessed with such people in your life . Sending you much love, peace and a big hug.! Take good care of yourself.
Hi, Bonita.
I lost my husband of 49 years on August 18th of this year. I feel your pain
I doubt that I’ll ever get past the loss of the love of my life…
Kathy V. you’re not alone. I also lost the love of my life and at times, it seems insurmountable but you will eventually get to a point when the pain will lessen but you will never forget. Your lost is so recent so it’s normal for you to feel the way you do. It takes time and know that you’re not alone. Be kind to yourself. Sending you strength and courage and a big hug!
Oh, Bonita! Your loss is still so front and center and overwhelming. I remember what that felt like. This will be a difficult Christmas for you, but yes… You will heal and begin again and while you will always miss him, your loss won’t be so painful and staggering. Sending you love and strength, Brenda
Your life with James had been such a beautiful chapter in your life. Thank you for sharing.
From the Canadian poet Rupi Kaur:
Like the rainbow after the rain
Joy will reveal itself
After sorrow
That’s beautiful, Rosemarie. Thank you for sharing. When we’re in the valleys of sorrows, it’s difficult to remember that once again, joy awaits us on the other side of the mountain. xoxox, Brenda
Tell me about the inside. It’s beautiful. Did you design it? I love the shelves in the kitchen and the light fixtures. How satisfying it must have been to transform it all and the pitch looks like something out of a magazine.
Thanks for asking about my Little House. It was a huge project, one of love I did with the help of some wonderful Mexican craftsmen who lived in a nearby Texas Hill Country town. We did this while I went through chemotherapy and breast cancer surgeries and it gave me hope that I would have lots of tomorrows to enjoy my beloved Little House. We started by gutting the whole house and installing heat/AC, which it didn’t have. My goal was to make it a little jewel box with touches of red in each room and black wrought iron whether it was on a curtain rod or vintage light fixtures. But since the house was so small, I was careful to only have the essentials but everything was old, but a feast for the eyes. The antique lace summer spreads on the bed and as curtains in the bedroom, the pair of Art Deco leather club chairs, and the Oushak rugs on the floors. The front porch was one of my favorite spaces. The daybed there is where I would spend the mornings when I was short on energy from chemo. It was hard for me to concentrate on a book, so magazines were more my speed. From there I could watch my dogs play in the yard, and sometimes they were next to me on the floor. It was a joyous time, and I cherish those memories. xoxox, Brenda
the layers of grief fall away to reveal beautiful memories. it’s been 25 years for me.
Bonnie, thank you for sharing!
So well said, Bonnie. Me, too. It will be 14 years on Christmas. Thank you, sweet lady. xoxox, Brenda
Brenda, thank you for sharing such an important part of your life. So glad to know that you’re at that place in your life when good memories have replaced the pain. A grief therapist once said that the 2nd year is the most difficult as we
really come to grips with the painful reality of our loss. The 1st year is filled with confusion and we go through the motions in a daze. I lost the love of my life 2 years ago Dec 1st and that pain is very raw. Not looking forward to Christmas as this is a very lonely day for a lot of people. The only comfort that I derive is knowing that I am not alone in feeling this way. Peace and compassion to all those who are grieving and knowing that one day we will reach a point in our lives where good memories will remain to comfort us. Brenda, I am wishing you a peaceful Christmas with Annie. Sending you love and a big hug! Perhaps, in a future post you would like to share how you celebrate Christmas .
Yvonne, I know you’re still in the immediacy of grieving, and I remember how painful and difficult that was. However, it sounds like you have someone to help you through this and remind you that things will get better. My Christmas is always different. For a number of years I went out of town to a friends’ and took my dogs. Some years I stay home and it’s a time for reflection and decompression. It’s nice to have quiet time, just me and Annie. Blessing to you this Christmas. xoxox, Brenda
A short poem from my husband comes to mind:
Someday
Someday when the good is good again,
Somewhere in the vastness of your soul,
A tiny imprisoned bird will begin to sing anew.
Allan Keero
Oh! That’s beautiful, Barb. Truly. Each word was chosen so carefully and they all fit like a beautiful piece of music. Thank you for sharing! xoxox, Brenda
I lost my husband of 60 years 3 yrs ago. Still feel as if part of me has been amputated. I do what I’ve been told … “keep moving”! With the help of my wonderful family and friends I manage to do that. Holidays are rough…
Oh, Esta! I can’t imagine. After 60 years together, I understand why you say a part of you has been amputated. I hope with each passing year, his loss is somehow easier for you, but yes… Right now it may seem impossibly difficult. You’re doing all the right things, keep moving and being with family and friends. What about starting a new tradition to honor him? Perhaps you could deliver presents and a Christmas meal to a less fortunate family. Something that reminds you how blessed you still are. I don’t know if you belong to a church, but even if you don’t, if you call a local church or two, they may have the names of some families, the age of the children and what they want for Christmas. I’ve done this several times and I’m always brought to my knees just knowing that even though my husband is no longer with me, I am so lucky. My town also has a “Santa toy drive” that lots of people get involved with. It may sound cliche, but getting outside of ourselves and doing for others is truly a great way to help ourselves. Sending you lots of love and strength, Brenda
Dear Brenda:
You are an inspiration to others. The path of living includes loss in so many ways. I’ve not lost a spouse but other losses have created an area of grief that lives in my heart. My mother had 6 siblings with muscular dystrophy. As they slowly lost function it could be heart wrenching to navigate. Because of the amazing care they received, the last one living is 82. I just took her some Christmas goodies and fed them to her. She is barely able to chew and swallow which breaks my heart to witness. Our strong faith in God truly does provide peace thar passes understanding. Sorry for rambling on. I know you are a believer and I pray that God has, and will continue to, grant you that peace.
Dear Kathy, Six siblings with muscular dystrophy! Even as a person or a family of faith, that’s a lot to take in and handle. Like you, it breaks my heart to know this woman has lived with this for 82 years and depended on others for the most basic things we take for granted. God has something great in store for her when she meets Him, and you and your other family members who believe. I will say a special prayer for all of you. God bless you for being there for her. Yesterday I read something I’ve read before but it touched me more than ever: “We’re here to walk one another home.” I love that! We all need one another more than ever as we grow older, and this sentiment is particularly true of what you’re doing for your aunt. Sending you lots of love, Brenda
Dear Brenda,
Thank you for sharing your life with your handsome James, I just can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. Reading what you said made my heart instantly very sad. This is something I would think you really never fully recover from. You are such a strong “powerhouse” of a lady. I think when you have gone through so much heart break and loss in your life it can make you stronger. I really admire how brave you are. I too have experienced lots of things in my life that were challenging, it sure builds character. That type of character building we do not need right?
I’m really not into Christmas this year. I have taken out my bling brooch to wear and it gets some nice comments. It also brightens up my days.
Sending you warm hugs, and wishing you all the connections that bring you comfort. You deserve nothing but the best in your life.
Hello Katherine, I appreciate your comments and your sentiments. Life doesn’t always have happy endings like the ones in fairy tales. We can let them take us down, sour us on life and ruin whatever chance we have to create the next chapters of our life, or we can do what we can to move forward and create new blessings. No, it’s not easy, and I’m sorry you know this to be true. However, I’m glad to hear you’re getting compliments about your pretty brooch. Good for you for wearing it, even though you’re not in the spirit of the season. “Fake it till we make it,” right? That’s not a bad sentiment because at some point we begin to realize we’ve made it. That’s strength! The faking it part. Sending love and well wishes right back at you! xoxox, Brenda