Why I Love Christmas and Death
What an odd combination, right? Aren’t Christmas and death basically polar opposites (no Christmas pun intended)? Christmas brings joy to the hearts of children and similarly to us adults who have chosen to never grow up. That’s easy to love. But death? Who loves death?!?
I should clarify. I don’t love death itself. Death sucks. That’s true whether you’re the one who is dying or the one watching someone else die. But there are incredible gifts that come from being face-to-face with mortality.
I’ve noticed that people who are grieving, whether it be anticipatory grief as they watch a loved one’s health decline or even anticipating their own death, tend to be open in ways that they could not be when life appeared to stretch out before them without end.
I experienced this firsthand as I watched my brother die recently. What he and I couldn’t say when he was healthy, we did say near his end. Struggling with his uncooperative body, Doug was able to get out the words “I love you” several times to me, even though (as his wife told me), “he won’t say it if you say it to him first.” But he did. At least three times that I recall.
To some that may seem insignificant, but in a family that struggled to say “I love you,” my brother’s small expression of love was a huge gift. I apologized for not being a good sister to him and he assured me that I’d always been a good sister. Again, his sentiment was simple but the love behind the words was abundant.
I expect that many of you who have lost loved ones or who are facing health challenges yourself understand what I mean about those precious, end-of-life gifts. But you still may be wondering how death — even with all of its gifts — has anything to do with Christmas.
The similarity, and the aspect that I love so much, is the way that both death and Christmas open hearts. At Christmas, I’ve noticed, those of us who wish to can “get away with” being more loving and giving without feeling awkward about it. At the Christmas season, it’s socially acceptable to be a little (or a lot) more open hearted than during the rest of the year.
Similarly, when we’re grieving, we can also “get away with” tears, loving actions, and other feelings that we would normally be too embarrassed to express. People cut us slack when we’re grieving and this frees us to explore the depths of our hearts in ways that we might feel is ungraceful in another context.
Open hearts breed love, forgiveness, and compassion. In a world full of violence, pain, and anger, the significance of these “small” acts of kindness cannot be overstated. Whether it’s because of Christmas or grief, I appreciate and embrace the open hearts (including my own) that appear during these times.
Can you embrace the beauty of your own (or others’) open hearts this Christmas season? If, like me, you’re dealing with grief (fresh or not), maybe this is the time that you can embrace the gifts that arise from your broken heart? Can you see how that in the best of times1 and in the worst of times we often become the most incredible individuals we will ever be on this earth?
Over the next month or so, when you feel your own heart widening, step into it. Buy a gift for someone that you aren’t expected to buy for. Send a Christmas card (do people do that anymore?!?) to someone with whom you’ve had a falling out. Buy groceries for a family who could use a little financial help. Invite a hurting person out for coffee and just listen as they cry and pour out their heart.
Whatever comes up as you feel your heart opening, embrace it. You don’t need to do it with joy. If you need to cry as you prepare Aunt Martha’s Christmas card, so be it. If you’re feeling especially joyful this year, embrace that feeling and let it propel you to new heights of loving and giving.
In the best and worst of times… at joyful holidays and in mournful good-byes… embrace the wonder of open hearts.
Christmas is indeed “the most wonderful time of the year”! :)