Christmas should not be the time for good-byes.

For many, if not most, Christmas is a joyous time of year; a time for celebration and laughter, for the gathering of family and friends.

It should not be a time of sorrow, nor a time for “good-byes.”

Unfortunately, there will always be families who experience the loss of a loved one at Christmastime.

I have attended a few funerals for people who have passed away at or near Christmas, and they were difficult; more so than most.

Several local churches hold “Blue Christmas” services for those who have lost loved ones, whether in the past year or longer ago. The Arthur Funeral Home and Barton & Kiteley Funeral Home, along with the Rotary Club present the Tree of Hope on the lawn of City Hall, as a way of remembering and celebrating loved ones.

There can be comfort in attending services such as these.

The pain never really goes away, and at a time when other people are celebrating, grief comes to the surface far too readily.

There is always a moment of pause on the anniversary of the passing of a loved one, even years later. Throughout the year we may recall fond memories of our loved ones, and often we recognize how much we miss them.

But when that anniversary coincides with what should be the happiest time of the year, that grief can be overwhelming.

Many times I have had questions of something from my past: when did this happen? Who was that person we visited when…? My first reaction is usually to ask my mother, because she would know – and then I remember, I can’t ask her; she is no longer with us.

At Christmastime, as I watch the various tv specials, many quite touching and poignant, I feel the loss of my loved ones more deeply than at any other time.

Until now, the loved ones I have lost were older – grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, and cousins. Each had a special place in my heart, and is truly missed.

This week, however, I have experienced something I was not prepared for: the death of someone my own age.

In actual fact, there had been a few deaths of friends and schoolmates when I was younger, but these did not seem to affect me quite so much as one might expect. Perhaps it is due to the resilience of children, but while their deaths upset me at the time, and I do think about them occasionally, they are not something I dwell on.

As I approach my fiftieth birthday, it is the names of parents of friends and acquaintances that I recognize when reading the obituaries. I certainly don’t expect to be attending the funeral of a contemporary.

While I deeply miss my parents and grandparents, and other older relatives who have passed away, I have never experienced the sense of shock and grief that hit me this week.

There was much discussion in the News Response forum about the woman who was hit by a car while crossing Trunk Road on Sunday, and who succumbed to her injuries the next day. Her name was not immediately released while next of kin were notified.

And so, when I was checking the news on Monday it was an indescribable shock to read her name.

My family and I lived five doors up the street from Susan Hartley for almost twenty years. She took piano lessons from my dad.

And, for five years, we were married.

The reasons for our break-up are our own, but suffice it to say that we parted on reasonably good terms, when all was said and done. We spoke to each other occasionally over the past ten years.

Susan was a kind, thoughtful woman with a great sense of humour, and a good friend.

Although we divorced, recognizing that that was the best course for both of us, the memories of the times we shared do not go away. It isn't until something like this happens, however, that one realizes that those feelings and memories are still not far below the surface.

And, of course, one memory leads to another, and the feeling of loss and grief becomes almost overwhelming.

I cannot begin to fathom what her parents are experiencing; no one is supposed to out-live their child. Likewise, what I am feeling must pale in comparison to that of her brothers, her aunts and uncles, and her cousins.

Words cannot begin to express my condolences.

I only hope that as the years pass that the memories of all the good times they have shared will fill their hearts, and ease their feelings of loss.


Christmas should not be the time for good-byes.


- David