Adam's Tree

Somehow, I mustered the courage to open the box and peek inside. Deep breath, Mary, you can do this.

One by one, I unwrapped the ornaments from their tissue paper cocoons and hung them on the branches. Of course, the floodgates opened. Baby’s first Christmas – 1991, a baseball – 1997, computer wizard – 2005, red convertible – 2007, holiday camping tent – 2009. They are gifts from my mother-in-law, “Grandma Connie,” who bought each of the kids a yearly ornament until they reached adulthood. The eclectic collection used to hang on the family tree all together, but when the kids grew up, I separated them into their own boxes so they could take their treasures with them.  

What should I do with Adam’s box of ornaments? I wondered. Val suggested I decorate a small tree with them, which seemed like a good idea. That is, until I opened the box.

I’ve learned in my support group that we cannot go around the pain that is grief, or over it, or under it – we must go through it. Alan Wolfelt, PhD., author, educator, and grief counselor says, “There is darkness and pain in grief, but there is also hope. We have loved, and we must now muster the courage to mourn.” Of course, it’s a day-by-day process. Some days are easier than others.

With God’s help this past week, I did find the courage to decorate Adam’s little tree. I even added a collection of small pine cones I gathered from the ground up in Weaverville where he is buried. When it was finished, I stepped back to take it in. Sure, I was drained from crying, but I was also filled with a sense of accomplishment and felt the spark of Christmas joy.

I’m glad I opened the box. It’s a sweet little tree full of memories that I want to hold on to and cherish.

Grief never ends…But it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love – Author Unknown