Do you feel this is the last Christmas with your spouse or parent?

Maybe your loved one has just been placed in hospice–or maybe you just know.

You have that feeling.

Perhaps you or your loved one is facing a  cancer diagnosis, or you’re at the end stages of Alzheimer’s or heart disease.

This can put a cloud over the festivities. It’s hard to get in the holiday mood while your kitchen counter is filled with medicine bottles–and not gingerbread men.

It gets tirig when you worry about what you say or do being “the last.”

Everything drips with meaning. You’re standing in Wal Mart and feel weepy.

For some of us, it throws us into hyper-drive. We’ve got to create the perfect Christmas. We use that control button in our heads to keep us busy–to keep us from feeling.

Or…you can’t seem to wedge your butt off the couch. Flipping channels has somehow become  your life.

You don’t know it, but this is the face of grief.

We start grieving long before death enters the picture. We project ourselves forward and think of the next holiday without them, or we throw ourselves in the past and long for those “golden days.”

The word grief means:  Deep mental anguish, as that arising from bereavement.

But that’s  dictionary talk. Grief is like a face. While we all (okay, most) have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, no two faces are the same. Grief is never the same. We wear experience it differently.

 So what do you do if you feel like this is your last Christmas together?

Do you feel like there’s just too much to do during the holiday season?

If you’re caregiving or a sandwich gen-er–I’d be willing to bet money that your stress levels are ramping on up there about now. . 

It’s not that it’s not all good–the tree, the gifts, the home baked cookies, the parties, the family gatherings, the lights…

Every one of those holiday components are wonderful–the fresh smell of the tree, the wonder of what’s in that big, sparkly-wrapped box…

Yhen, the proverbial “soup pot” boils over and the cookies burn, you don’t want to go to one more red-sweater party (or there are no parties and you feel empty), and the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate–someone says/does something really ugly…you feel like your head’s going to explode you’re so mad.

And then, there’s the unexpected element of grief that  creeps into  the holidays. We can’t help but miss those who are not  there. This sorrow can feel like a wedge between the here and now.

Not exactly what you had planned…

All the good becomes too much.

If you want a good laugh, the Thanksgiving segment of Boston Legal will make you snicker (you can watch it online).

Around the holiday table is Denny Crane, (played by William Shatner) who has Alzheimer’s, so he’’s always good for a few inappropriate remarks, Alan Shore, his best friend (played by James Spader--he could read to me alll night) decides to deliver a lawyerly rampage on American politics…and the other players all pitch in their own prejudices, stereotypes, and funny banter that will make you WISH your family was this witty in their all too familiar digs. 

It all winds up (after a really big fight) in the kitchen with Denny thoroughly confused. Christmas, time, memories, love–it’s all too much. The small moment winds up being a long hug between two old friends.

But of course, you can’t just leave it like that–on a sweet note–no!

Just like at your house, (or mine)–someone has to take it too far and someone really does get their feelings hurt.

It happens. We’re human, and no one, no one can push that exact right button to make you go off than someone who shares your same DNA.

My other Christmas funny movie is the classic “Christmas Vacation” with Chevy Chase. We still kid about his aunt wrapping up the cat and trying to give it as a gift–and then she sings the National Anthem instead of offering a blessing. My mother actually did that once–so we all went with it–hands on our hearts and belted out our national pride.

All you can do is spike the egg nog and go with it. Christmas and the holidays can bring out the beast in all of us. But if we look really close and think small, we might find something of value

My only advice is survive. Any way you can. Just envision that Last of the Mohican’s guy about to jump into the waterfall and telling the love of his life. “No matter what, I will find you. Survive!” This is what I tell myself when I’m really stressed. (FYI guys, All and I do mean ALL girls love that scene).

If you’re caregiving, think really small. Hot tea and a cookie while sitting in front of a fire might be just enough.

Choose one thing–whether it’s riding around looking at lights or baking Italian wedding cookies from your great aunt Sophia’s recipe–pick one thing that means Christmas to you–and do it. Don’t get hung up on what doesn’t get done, and what gets screwed up.

The perfect Christmas/Hanukah/holiday is  really more than the human race is capable of.

Zero in on what is most sacred, most precious to  you. That’s all that matters.

For me, it’s going to hear the Edward Water’s choir sing. They’re amazing, and sitting in a tiny chapel with warm wood walls and stained glass windows while 20+ college students belt out the Carols with soul and spice is the perfect way for me to celebrate the season. I attended last year, and tears streamed down my face–I clapped and sang and felt more in touch with the season that I had in years.

Each of us have to find our own way, find what hoiday moment touches our heart and lifts our spirits.

~Carol O’Dell, author of Motheirng Mother