Friendsgiving

The other day I was walking through my favorite off-price department store and as per usual, I dropped by the aisle with holiday glassware. I could usually find something there to make me smile. Even though it was only October, I saw a multitude of both Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations. My eyes landed on a Thanksgiving serving platter that had the word “Friendsgiving” written in a beautiful script. Rather than lifting my spirits, tears immediately came to my eyes and I was plunged into grief over the loss of Thanksgiving traditions with Sylvia’s passing. My best friend of 23 years passed away of cancer almost 5 years ago, and I was very surprised that I still carried so much grief.

If I think October is too early for holiday decorations, isn’t it also too early for me to be feeling the grief that is associated with not having Sylvia with me for the holidays? Somehow I thought I had worked through a lot of the grief, but there it was. It was hard, if not impossible, to ignore the feelings because all I felt was lack. I could feel what was missing… and what was missing was Sylvia.

I resonated with something written by Kyle Cease when he said if you are blocking out certain emotions like anger or grief, you are essentially also blocking out emotions like love and joy. Being reunited with grief after losing Sylvia, when I thought I had seen my way through it, I entertained the idea that perhaps I had been purposefully blocking out intense love, for fear of being so badly devastated again. I understand that the greater one loves, the greater the pain when that relationship is lost or severed. Maybe I was shutting myself off from experiencing my emotions surrounding my parents. With my mother experiencing dementia and my father’s mesothelioma, I have been staying strong for them, and my guess is protecting my heart In turn.

So why the grief around Sylvia now? Thanksgiving was always a special holiday for us as Sylvia and I would cook together for 20+ friends and family members. Those Thanksgivings with Sylvia were some of the happiest days of my life. Losing Sylvia meant preparing the meal with the help of others, but somehow the feelings were never the same. I felt like I was going through the motions with a Sylvia-sized hole in my heart and at my dining table.

I asked myself why those days, in particular, were so magical. What did those memories represent? Sylvia was someone who encouraged and helped me to be at my best. She represented unconditional love, adventure, and excitement, pushing boundaries and not taking the Universe’s “no” for an answer. There was no task too difficult or time consuming for us to take on.

So maybe this grief was a reminder that I was hoping for someone to appear, Sylvia preferably, to let me feel all those feelings again. I sat with her as she took her last breath, so I knew that was not going to happen.

I came to the conclusion that I was incredibly fortunate to know this kind of love. How lucky I was to have a Sylvia. I am not saying that I don’t have people that love me and that I love in turn. But I have never experienced the connection that I shared with her with anyone else. Maybe this was my one shot at experiencing this depth of love and friendship. And maybe my days of receiving those gifts of love are over.

Rather than wallow in my grief of what I was lacking, maybe I could turn that around and provide someone else with those same gifts of unconditional love, excitement, and adventure. Rather than waiting to receive, I could give. So maybe that was the answer! Maybe I could create my own joy through replicating what I lost by sharing it with someone else. If I couldn’t have a Sylvia of my own, maybe I could be a Sylvia for someone else. Maybe through me, someone else could experience a depth of love and connection that they never thought possible.

By creating love-filled moments with others, I don’t diminish or replace that which I shared with Sylvia. My love for Sylvia is not replaceable. I still feel her connection to me on a spirit to spirit basis. The question is not, how can I replace her? There is no replacing her. But there is the opportunity to create and share those attributes that I greatly miss in the hope of bringing joy to others. By providing those same qualities for someone else through shared experiences, it could forge our own deep connections, strengthen our relationship, intensify our love and create future memories. And maybe, without realizing it, I will have allowed myself the opportunity to feel joy again. Perhaps, selfishly, by creating stronger relationships with others, I will be giving myself an opportunity to heal.