Why Does My 4 Month Old Fight Sleep So Much Season of Sorrow

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Season of Sorrow

The Thanksgiving/Christmas season has always been a special time of year for me, a time of family, thankfulness, and giving. When I was little, I knew that I would see grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins ​​that I might not see for months. My mom would make her famous potato salad with pumpkin pie if we went to a relative’s house for Thanksgiving. If my father was stationed too far from the rest of the family for us to make the trip “home,” we always had “his” plate plus turkey or ham. Christmas meant something special to each of us children. Even when I was old enough to realize that we were economically poor, I knew that somehow, somehow my parents would have a gift for me, as well as “Santa” gifts for my younger brothers and sisters. The most important part of the holidays is the fact that we were together as a family.

When Robert and I got married, I had no idea that my husband came from such a different background. To his parents, both Thanksgiving and Christmas were just days on the calendar. They could, or would not, have a meal more “Sunday” quality than every day, but nothing more happened. Over the years, it has shifted in my way of thinking. Poor man didn’t really have much choice. Thanksgiving and Christmas have become as important to him as they are to me, a time for our family to celebrate and be together.

However, premature grief tried to destroy our joy in the holidays. On December 19, 1968, our daughter Regina Louise was born, small and fragile. On the morning of December 20, he died, leaving behind a grieving family. I wrote indirectly about this situation in other stories, but the grief never completely left. Even if I don’t notice the date, December 20 every year, a cloak of sadness envelops me. However, I cling to the desire to make Christmas special for my family, a family time.

One Christmas night, 1986, my father died, alone. He had to work at the hospital on Christmas Eve and Christmas night on the three to eleven shift. Mom went down to the Edmond area where my brother and I lived. In fact, he lived in the city with my brother and his children. On Christmas Eve, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of hail hitting the roof. Without asking, the thought washed into my mind, “My father is dying alone just like his father did.” I pooh-poohed my crazy idea, turned over, and went back to sleep. The next morning, my brother brought Mother and her children to our home. The roads were covered with piles of snow on a bed of ice. Our youngest and his wife could not make it to dinner because the roads were in worse condition in the west and in the northern part of the state. After dinner, our oldest son and his wife went to his parents, but they called to tell us that the road was dangerous.

After my father left work that Christmas, he went to a dark and lonely house. He died sometime after getting ready for bed, or after waking up during the night. Another sad shadow on the holiday.

My grandmother, my mother’s mother, died three days after Christmas in 1993, all her children by her side. We helped my mom pay her way to California a few days before grandma died, but we didn’t have the money to go. Mom also told me that my children and husband needed me with them for Christmas.

About two weeks before Thanksgiving, 1996, my mother had a stroke. I sat next to him for the days we were given to say goodbye. He died the Sunday before Thanksgiving. His funeral was the day after Thanksgiving, nine years ago this week. At least he is no longer in pain. However, the day after his death, my ex-son-in-law stole two of my grandchildren. We don’t know where they are or how they are. The hole left by their absence continues to grow as the years pass.

The season of grief has come once again, but I will fight it. I will not let the sense of loss take away the remaining joy. I will still be able to be with my husband in almost forty-four years. On Thanksgiving we will have dinner with our youngest and his family, and his in-laws, close friends, they will be there along with our older daughters and their families. Christmas plans are not made yet, but we will get together and see some of our family. The love will remain, and the memories.

How sad that this season of good news is also our season of sorrow. God bless you all and give you a deep sense of comfort and joy that overcomes the battle of suffering.

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