How About That Yuletide Cheer?

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“So, this is Christmas, and what have you done?” John Lennon asked in his holiday ballad, “Happy Xmas.”

For many, Yuletide cheer, gatherings and gifts mark “the most wonderful time of the year,” rather than an interlude for personal reflection. But, for the downtrodden and beleaguered, those deeply wounded by losses, tragedies and other emotional and spiritual injuries, Christmas is not about good cheer. Rather than a time for joy, it evokes somber contemplation, remembrances and, too often, renewed pain.

So, for those who would rather not have a holiday buzz kill, you may wish to bail on reading further, or come back another time. There will be no It's a Wonderful Life ending here.

While the holidays focus heavily on the joy of giving and receiving gifts, as well as the gatherings of family and friends, these often do little to assuage the pain among those beaten down by life. Poverty of spirit is not diminished by gifts, food, merriment or decorations, as Cathy demonstrated.

“For me, it’s the saddest time of the year,” she explained.

Widowed and several years past her only daughter’s untimely death from cancer, she finds relief when the holidays conclude and her normal routine resumes. For those bereaved or otherwise struggling, habits and purposeful activity can be both distracting and comforting. When we disrupt them, as on holidays, disquiet may set in.

“My daughter loved the holidays, and we always enjoyed the baking, shopping, wrapping presents and decorating. Now, all those things just stab at my wound,” she explained.

Painful Time of Year

She is not alone. If you're depressed, chronically ill, bereaved, in a crazy-making family, or otherwise have your mental back to life's proverbial wall, this time of year can prove particularly painful. In part, this stems from the cultural expectation that we will all be of good cheer and embrace the so-called holiday spirit, regardless of our circumstances. When in a dark and painful emotional place, the surrounding contrast of Yuletide gaiety only deepens one’s pain. It creates an “if only” mindset, one in which those under siege wonder what might have been.

For Cathy, “if only” would have meant watching her daughter blossom in her own life and career, perhaps marrying and having children. That devastating loss left her needing the support of others in a big way. Sadly, it can be hard to come by this time of year.

“Around the holidays, some friends avoid me because they care too much, and it hurts them to see me struggling, or they feel awkward and don't know what to say or how to help,” she explained.

Despite her magnanimous attitude and regardless of other people's intentions, Cathy ends up feeling alone and out of sync with the festive folks around her, not to mention the culture at large.

“That's why I turn down invitations to Christmas dinner, much as I appreciate them,” she told me. “I’m not in a holiday mood, and it’s demoralizing to be with people who are and expect me to join in. Plus, I don't want to bring them down.”

During the holiday season, the greatest gift we can give is our compassion and caring, made greater still when the recipient is someone who sorely needs it. Well-meaning as it may be, inviting someone like Cathy to join in the festivities sometimes invokes unintended and painful consequences. What can help is seeking that person out for quality one-to-one time on their terms.

“My closest friend gets it,” Cathy explained. “She visits with me throughout the holidays. She listens, doesn’t judge, and she understands my need to stay on the sidelines.”

One of my sisters reflects this mindset in her standard holiday greeting.

“Have a Christmas,” she says, leaving out the “merry,” which conveys an implied expectation of good cheer.

So, if you know someone like Cathy, perhaps the best response to John Lennon’s question would be, “I’ve been there when a loved one needed me.”

Have a Christmas.

For me, visit philipchard.com.