This Christmas will be the same but different, Lynne Taylor writes.
Next week is Christmas. For people of Christian faith, it is a time to celebrate Jesus Christ, born in Bethlehem 2000 years ago in fulfilment of ancient prophecies.
Jesus, who declared and demonstrated good news to the poor, liberty for captives and the oppressed and healing for all in need of it. Jesus, who enabled a restored relationship with God, humanity and all of creation.
Later, we welcomed spouses, in-laws, nieces and nephews and children; as well as our nearly-family Christmas Eve friends. Most years, we’ve returned to Canterbury from wherever we lived, to celebrate together.
This year we’re also heading home to Canterbury. But this year will be different. My generation is now the oldest, as my mother and mother-in-law both died earlier this year.
It’s strange imagining Christmas without them. We’ve grieved such losses before, as we farewelled father and father-in-law, but this is somehow different.
It’s got me thinking again about grief. About how it is a companion as the days and weeks turn into months. Particularly at key ‘‘celebration’’ times, but also at random moments.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ so-called stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance - map out a neat path from loss to resolution.
Except it doesn’t really work that way. In fact, the stages emerged out of Kubler-Ross’ research not with grieving people but with dying people.
They were originally formulated as the five stages of dying, rather than stages of grief.
The stages make more sense for the dying process as one faces one’s own death, or perhaps the illness and anticipated but untimely death of a child or younger person.
But people started applying Kubler-Ross’ stages not to dying, but to grief after a death, and she went on to write a book connecting these stages to grief itself, despite them not really having been tested with grieving people.
The stages of grief have been popularised, including in TV, movies, books and magazines. They are often talked about as if they are normal and universal for grief and loss.
However, they are not normal or universal. While the stages might be helpful for some, grief is personal and individual. There’s not a neat process or progression. You don’t need to go through the stages to be grieving ‘‘properly’’.
To be fair, Kubler-Ross didn’t really anticipate a linear process, but humans do like things to be orderly, and the process is attractive because it seems neat and like it will end happily ever after.
I haven’t personally found the ‘‘stages’’ particularly helpful with the sort of grief I’ve experienced around the death of elderly parents. There’s not a lot to deny or even be angry about when someone who has lived to the ripe old age of 90+ dies.
I might have waves of forgetting or being surprised by the loss, but I wouldn’t call it denial. Acceptance certainly isn’t the destination; I’ve accepted the loss and still grieve.
Approaches that view grief as involving tasks rather than as stages can be more helpful. For example, psychologist William Worden identified four tasks of mourning: accepting the reality of the loss; processing the pain of the grief; adjusting to the world without the loved one; and finding an enduring connection with them.
These tasks are concurrent: you don’t tick one off before you get to the others.
As I look forward to Christmas, I’m accepting that it will be different. (Who will make the pavlova with Mum not there, we might wonder.)
We are staying in a new location as our favourite holiday spot has also been lost this year, due to climate change: another source of grief.
I know I need to continue to process the pain of the grief - it has been easy to busily hide from those necessary feelings. I’m being intentional about that by attending a ‘‘blue Christmas’’ service run by our local church.
I will be taking the time to acknowledge the losses, grief and pain of the year. And I will continue to journal as a way of processing the pain.
Holding space for the sadness and struggle is a necessary part of being human.
We’re adjusting to life without our mothers, including by making some changes to how we celebrate this year. Still with whānau, but with some intentional adjustments.
I’ll remember Mum when I’m at the beach and when I eat fresh fish or go camping or play cribbage. I’ll find her recipe and have a go at making her pav - and I’ll serve it on her pavlova plate at Christmas. Just like always.
At Christmas, we remember that Jesus came into our world, because of God’s love. The Greek word (sozo) translated to describe the salvation
Jesus offers is a holistic one. It encompasses spiritual, social, mental and physical wellbeing.
As I look forward to Christmas, I am grateful for this promise of holistic wellbeing: for me, for my whānau for you and for all our world that God so loves.
• Dr Lynne Taylor is the Jack Somerville senior lecturer in Pastoral Theology, University of Otago.
