I have been very antsy as of late. Christmas is less than a week away and although I have been done with my shopping for awhile now, I am still unsettled. Normally, in the past, it was because I knew that Christmas Day wouldn’t be as magical for Nico as it was for other children, or even for my husband and me for that matter. Nico never truly understood that Santa brought these amazing gifts for him and laid them under the tree, pristinely wrapped with such care, and so waking up on this day lost a bit of its luster once Nico began his journey through the world of Autism.

He didn’t pay attention to the presents under the tree just waiting for him, nor would he rush to open all of his other gifts when everyone was doling them out at our family gatherings. He was content to just play in a corner somewhere with his little knickknacks in his own world. Meanwhile, his father and I were holding back tears and silently envying every other family whose children were ever present in these special Christmas moments with each other. It was these early Christmases after Nico’s diagnosis that made me miss my mom so deeply….all over again. I clung to this idea for so long that if maybe she was still here with us that she would have the magic touch and could transform Nico’s interest for Christmas into something magical like she always was able to do for her own children.

But, fast forward to today and Nico has grown tremendously. He understands who Santa is and that he is a special man that helps bring joy during Christmas. He also has begun to understand that the gifts under the tree have something to do with him. In these last two years, Nico has been more present with us during Christmas. He has opened gifts with eager anticipation and cheered when he or anyone around him has received a gift that was really wanted. Choosing the right gifts for Nico is a totally different story, but when it happens it’s like your life has been made because his eyes just explode with excitement and he tends to use so much appropriate language in those moments.

So, I know that the gifts he will receive this year from Santa will surely evoke the same giddy exhilaration, but I am now dealing with all new feelings of angst and discontent. And, I have been wracking my brain to determine why I can’t shake these feelings other than for the obvious reason…this awful pandemic has stripped so much of the typical joy and festivity from the holiday season. I have come to terms with the fact that there will be no large family gatherings and we won’t be opening gifts together with our family. I won’t be making a lavish Christmas dinner in my own home since we are still residing in a rental while ours is on the mend. I have reconciled with all of this, but I think what is truly affecting me this year are overwhelming feelings of sympathy, empathy and heartache.

This year has put my family through the ringer and has definitely had me longing for my mother in a way I haven’t felt in awhile, that’s for sure. But, it has also opened my eyes and heart to the thousands upon thousands of others who will be having their first Christmases without loved ones. Loved ones stolen away by this merciless virus. My newsfeed is taken over by countless stories of unimaginable loss everyday and it isn’t letting up. The deep heartache these poor, grieving families must be feeling coupled with knowing that they may not even be able to gather with their other family members for fear of compounding this loss with even more senseless loss.

The first Christmas, the first New Year’s Day, the first everything. I know these feelings of loss and longing all too well so I am here to let you know that if you are experiencing the first of many “firsts” without a parent, grandparent, child, spouse, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend, or significant other…your loss is not in vain.

Your loss is reverberating across this country through every doctor and nurse who couldn’t save their patients or allow for family to say their goodbyes face-to-face.

Your loss is being felt every time someone turns on the television and is faced with the growing number of cases and increasing mortality rate.

Your loss is being felt every time someone with pure ignorance in their heart decides to walk around carelessly without a mask.

Your loss is being felt by anyone and everyone who has lost loved ones this year or in years past and longs for their presence, touch, or voice just one more time, especially around the holidays.

Everything about 2020 has brought about so much angst, frustration, anger, disappointment, and heartache, but if there is one thing I would ask you to cling to it’s this: You are NOT alone.

You truly are not alone in what you are experiencing and I don’t think there have been more than a few times in our history where, as a nation…hell, as a world, we could say just that and really mean it. So, if you can find it in yourself to pull any kind of silver lining out of your grief this Christmas let it be this universal sense of sympathy and empathy that is absolutely rippling across the world right now.

My mom has been gone for 23 years and, although I miss her everyday, time does help with mending broken hearts and finding a sense of normalcy again. It doesn’t come without a lot of tears, a need for constant embrace, an ear to listen, and words of encouragement though.

And, since this year has been so unconventional and is causing me to think of how much I wish my mother was here, I have even thought about doing something radical like jumping in my car with my boys, big and little, and just traveling to a place where we can forget all about the sorrows and struggles we’ve faced this year. We can enjoy a complete change of scenery—since nothing about this Christmas fits the norm anyway—and just recharge our mental and emotional batteries, make new, fun memories, and ring in the new year on a high note.

I encourage you to consider doing the same thing! Be bold, be brave, and create a journey of healing for yourself that will allow you to grieve, but also allow you to reflect, remember, and make new memories that can be used to help these “firsts” sting a little less.

Remember…grief has no expiration date. Feel all your feelings, but don’t feel afraid or guilty to laugh or smile or seek a bit of merriment right now. Don’t let this pandemic steal everything from you.

So, please accept this post as a call to action, a shoulder to cry on, a warm embrace, a listening ear, or the encouraging words you may need right now to get you through the next minute, hour, day, week, or month as you grieve these “firsts.”

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and have a very Happy New Year as we kick 2020 the hell out of here and ring in 2021 with renewed hope! And, may your loved ones Rest In Peace.