As families begin to prepare for their old and new Christmas traditions, some have to go through the season of coping with the loss of a loved one.
THE MOST wonderful time of the year is a season of colors, blaring Yuletide songs, and numerous unique traditions. It is a season that comes to life with family and community. For some, however, their Christmas plans may not be as merry or joyful.
For those whose loved ones have passed away during this season, the holiday carols may sound different, decorated trees shine more dimly, and relatives come home for more painful reasons. As people begin to flood the malls once more for the holidays, others pack flowers and candles to bring to the cemetery. Two people who continue to grieve share their stories of mourning as they go through the season of giving, confronted with the reality of loss.
The ghost of Christmas past
Just like everyone who celebrates Christmas, Mariana Ramos, a Grade 12 student of Sacred Heart School – Ateneo de Cebu, is no stranger to special traditions. For her, Christmas finds a special place in her heart when she reminisces on the special bond she had with her father as they feasted over their favorite meals.
“I eat a lot with my dad, so during Christmas we would have a lot of food,” Mariana shares. She adds how this tradition even meant exchanging food-related gifts with one another.
Mariana and her father used to spend most of the year together, bonding over home-cooked meals and mall hangouts. She says that one of the most crucial questions she and her father enjoy answering is what dishes they’d be preparing for the festivities. For her, Christmas is largely defined by bonding with family over the most hearty and comforting meals.
Bro. Eugene Leaño, a seminarian at the Society of Saint Paul, shares similar memories of the extra special Christmases he spent with his mother. This season was one of the only times in the year that he could be with her.
“Family time may sound normal to others but, as a seminarian, I’m away for most of the year. The only time I’m with my family is during Christmas,” he says.
Bro. Eugene shares how his mom stood at the helm of ensuring the celebrations were grand: Planning staycations, contacting relatives, and cooking pasta. This especially touches his heart because his mother never really cooks; when she does, it’s her famous carbonara on special occasions like his birthday and Christmas.
For Bro. Eugene and Mariana, Christmas is colored mainly by their memories with the ones they’ve lost. Most of Mariana’s happiest memories always had her dad in the picture. On the other hand, Bro. Eugene’s mother was the cohesion that brought and kept their family together.
While their eyes light up in admiring and reminiscing their past Christmases, there remains a vague and unmistakable feeling that washes over them—longing.
Loss in the season of giving
As the winter solstice gets closer, the nights in December become longer. The bold and flashy Christmas lights distract most people from these long nights, but not even the lonesome candlelight on the Facebook profiles of the bereaved can help them escape the darkness.
“I’ve been a teacher to many students before who lost their parents in the middle of the school year. I didn’t know the extent of their pain until I lost my own,” Bro. Eugene recounts.
Bro. Eugene lost his mother to COVID-19 back in September, right when Christmas music started filling the malls. He recalls what his mom had to go through, from the day that she lost her senses to the conversation she had with their househelp where she said, “Wala na. Natalo na ako ng COVID (It’s over. COVID beat me).”
Mariana’s sorrow when she lost her father back in April—when many had already taken their Christmas lights down—is still present as the year comes to a close. “I really didn’t expect that he would pass away so suddenly at such an early part in my life,” she says, acknowledging that it takes quite a long while to cope with loss properly.
Christmas this year will be a much needed distraction for the two. Mariana shares that her relatives try to squeeze in get-togethers and calls to be there for them. The presence of family members and friends has helped comfort them.
This year, Bro. Eugene will be spending his Christmas away from home for the first time. He will be in the seminary, busy with Christmas preparations. “Distraction is my coping mechanism,” he says.
While hints of grief remain in their words, Christmas for the both of them remains a season of hope—maybe even more so now.
Unwrapping grief
Things have changed now that grief plays a significant role in both of their Christmases. Mariana shares their plans to spend the Christmas season with their extended family outside of their hometown. “[Staying in Cebu] reminds us too much of my dad,” she says.
It is important for her family, especially her mother, that the Christmas season stays joyous. While they can remember and smile about their memories with their father, they also want to start a new chapter with just the three of them.
Mariana says her father would have wanted that too.
Bro. Eugene, on the other hand, will be busy with liturgical work. The Christmas season is when he gets to unwind and be with his mom. “I will miss that the most during Christmas,” he expresses after realizing things wouldn’t be the same anymore.
Bro. Eugene shares the type of relationship he had with his mom. “I could tell my mom my deepest secret and not be embarrassed.” He even recounted how one night after her passing, he instinctively opened his phone and tried to call her, hoping he could tell her everything about his busy day and she would be on the other end, listening.
“I don’t think I can or will form the same emotional connection with anyone else,” he says.
Like Bro. Eugene with his mom, Mariana felt free of judgment around her father, too. “I’ll miss talking with [my dad]. He’s one of the few people who can actually understand me,” she recounts.
Both of them know, however, that their loved ones aren’t totally gone for Christmas. Mariana realizes the importance of celebrating the gift of company this year and how her father is still very much part of that. “My dad’s physical presence is not here, but he is still spiritually here,” she says. “He visits us in dreams.”
Similarly, Bro. Eugene has received messages from friends and family that his mother visits them in their dreams. She would bid them farewell but also confess that she would have rather lived. Bro. Eugene, however, believes she actually is still living, just somewhere else. He takes comfort in praying that she is in a better place.
The bright colors are still up, the music still blaring, and the traditions are reimagined into new ones. While Christmas won’t ever be the same for the bereaved, it may still be the season where they can hope for brighter and happier tomorrows.
As a parting wish, Mariana prays that her father is happy and rests well, while Bro. Eugene hopes his mother enjoyed her life here as he very much enjoyed hers.
As these words escape their lips—past the Christmas lights, food-centered gifts, and festive carbonara—there is an unshakeable feeling that these words have been heard. Their loved ones are out there listening, after all.
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