Through the Looking Glass

November 22, 2012

It seems the holidays are a mirror for what is working or not in your life.  The stress and pressure brings out the subtle nuances of one's personality putting a magnifying glass to each quirk or character.  When you add to it a recent loss of a loved one, the smallest issues can quickly explode out of proportion and cause complete break down.  The stress of a holiday can also highlight the hidden strengths and powers often set aside when unused or not needed. 

Yesterday was my first Thanksgiving without Ron.  It is important to point out that Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday.  He loved the food, the welcoming of people into our home, the football games and of course, the annual Thanksgiving Poker Tournament.  At the beginning of the holiday meal, he would stand at the head of the table looking down the two rows of guests, usually around 35-40 people in all, raise his glass and say "I just want to thank you all for coming today and sharing on this, my favorite holiday.  It's my favorite holiday because I get to look down this table at so many people, family, long time friends and friends we are just meeting.  This is is a home where everyone is welcome!"  He would then begin our gratitude chain.  He would say something he is grateful for then it would go around the table with each person expressing something they were especially thankful for.  It was a real feel-good moment where we all were in a place of contentment.  We would acknowledge those who were not with us any longer or who were temporarily away, due to wars and deployments overseas, logistics or other obligations.  He would sit and smile, give me a kiss now and again and enjoy the wonderful selection of foods.  Mostly, he would smile a lot.

Long before the meal, there were days of preparation that took place.  Both Ron & I would do the shopping, meal planning and  make sure we had enough of everything to feed the masses.  We did it together, as a couple and we were good.  I look at all I had to do to prepare for Thanksgiving this year and realize, I am a strong woman.  I am strong and capable.  I CAN do it all, but when Ron and I were together, I didn't HAVE to.  We were such a team sharing responsibilities and dancing our duet in the kitchen like old pros.  We knew how to move to allow the other to respond in kind.  Sometimes bumping into each other, then stepping back with a smile.  It was as if we choreographed our dance eons ago.

This year, it was all on me.  I did an extraordinary thing - I planned ahead!  I started my food preparations on Tuesday  and by Thanksgiving Day all I needed to do was complete the appetizers and enjoy!  The food preparation was also made easier with the help of my two daughters.  It was hysterical watching them fight over who got to do what in the kitchen.  One is 6 and the other is 22 - you would think there would be no conflicts, but the two prattled on like they were 4 and 7!  It was oddly enjoyable watching them learn to make pie crust, helping with pie fillings and all of the other dishes while arguing over whose turn it was to push the button on the food processor.  This was a first for me, having my two daughters helping with the Thanksgiving meal preparations.  I had longed for a day like this for many years.  Bittersweet.

Thanksgiving morning, I awoke early, around 7:30, but decided to stay in bed for a bit.  I had been up until 12:30 am the night before putting the final touches on the pumpkin cheesecake I made.  The first thought as I opened my eyes, as it was on most mornings, was that Ron was not lying next to me in bed.  He wasn't in another room or downstairs making coffee.  He was gone, dead, never to be again.  The tears erupted without sound and soon soaked my pillowcase.  I looked over at my sleeping angel daughter and hoped she would stay asleep a little longer so I could just sit in my sadness, thinking about my empty, aching heart.  I needed this time, when all was quiet, to feel - really FEEL my loss.  "It's going to be a long day" I thought to myself.

Soon, I rolled out of bed, dressed and headed downstairs to make coffee.  Coffee was my morning jewel and ritual.  It summoned the day to do it's best and take a stab at me - cuz once that first cup went down the hatch, I was fired up and ready to tackle anything that came my way.  I went about the morning finishing up the last minute details and giving instructions for clean up and set up in the patio.  The ovens were on, turkey was cooking and the beautifully decorated appetizer and dessert table was set.  I poured myself a glass of wine, looked around and smiled.   

As the time to put dinner on the table came closer, I felt a twinge of sadness and excitement at the same time.  I missed him so much and I knew I would have to be the one to raise my glass and make the toast in his absence.  I didn't want to break down and sob while all eyes were on me, but I knew there was no stopping the inevitable tears.  At the same time, I was a little excited and had such a sense of accomplishment.  I had done it.  I had put together Thanksgiving Dinner for 23 people and everything was cooked to perfection and all came to the table at the same time.  I always felt the only way I was able to do this all these years was because Ron and I did it together.  I did have plenty of help, but the core of the meal and coordination was on me and I did it!

As I think about all that I love and have lost when Ron died that day, I  know I am so lucky that I was and still am a strong woman who can accomplish anything if I set my mind to it.   As I take a long look into the "Looking Glass" of life, I know the reflection that stares back at me is that of a beautiful, strong, intelligent, wise, caring, compassionate and loving woman who will take on the second half of my life with the same grit that got me through the first 46 years.  I thank Ron for being a part of my life and for blessing me with his charm, smile, wit, intelligence and most of all unconditional love.  I thank him for standing strong beside me and allowing me to either flex my muscles or lean on him.  I am grateful for our life together and the gifts he left behind.