Stocking Fillers and Survival Tips

The truth is that it is at least five years since I filled a Christmas stocking for the children. I kept them going for a long time, gave them the money they needed to get what it was they really wanted and then hung up stockings with fun bits of nonsense. We live in Australia and one year my daughter was more than a little startled to find a rather ugly Halloween witch in one of those snow balls tucked in her stocking. She donated it to me recently and Gertie now sits perched on a ledge in the bathroom here. No one has particularly noticed her but I think she is kind of cool. Since Darryl died and I have been working from home I have had way more time on my hands than I was ever accustomed to having. This very likely intensified my grief. But since I was in no state to go out to work each day it was a genuine god send. I did get up and function each day but I now realize as I tried to fill the days I was trying to fill an empty stocking. For the first nine months I was in some kind of haze and the stocking got filled with horrid stuff, like putting Darryl's ninety two year old mother into a care facility. That well and truly occupied me. Darryl was an only child so I was the one left to attend to this. Needless to say I cursed him for leaving me to do all this but he would not have handled it all that well so at least he was spared. It took me almost a year to actually sell her place and disperse her life possessions. She is still alive but does not know me, her grandchildren or remember she had a son. For a very long I sort of wafted around in my night dress all day, looking a bit like Ophelia. The only difference is that Ophelia still managed to look attractive. At the time I genuinely thought I was doing a good job of disguising my misery and keeping upbeat for the kids but the truth is I was never that good at hiding my feelings in front of people. The day I found myself cutting up a childhood photo that was taken with my siblings I figured I did need some help. My siblings were conspicuous by their absence, apart from their paparazzi appearance at the time of the funeral, and I was bitter. The truth was that I only cared because Darryl was not there and we could not say that we were fine so long as we had one another. But until that realization dawned bitterness and getting help from people like my shiatsu therapist filled the stocking. It was the shiatsu therapist who encouraged me to bundle the dogs in the car and go and stay in pet friendly accommodation. That led me to renting a beach house at the time of the first anniversary and then later I house sat in the Grampians for two months. When I came back I realized that Darryl was still not there and the rot set in again but looking back I can see that these activities helped fill the stocking and kept me sort of sane. Now, three years later, I am not so bitter about the family and friends who really couldn't handle Darryl's death and my pain. I have sold my house and moved to a country town that is purported to be one of the relaxation centres of Victoria. The nastiest part of the wound is gradually healing and the scars are not quite so obvious. Now when I go places I do not 'mention the war' or frighten the horses by explaining that I am widowed and trying to start over. A friend who has been staying with me over New Year has held down all sorts of very important positions and she was talking to me about status reports and the importance of someone like me, who sort of works by remote control, listing the things I have done. For once I did not make any cynical comments and I will do that. I have this brand new diary which I can use to list the things I have actually done. What my friend doesn't know, because I have not told her, is that I will use the status report idea to help me break through the barrier and finally acknowledge that I have not done so badly in my personal life. We watched Priscilla Queen of the Desert AGAIN tonight and the bit that really stuck out this time was their rendition of 'I Have Survived'. Maybe I am qualified now to become a sort of Santa Claus figure and go around filling stockings with little survival tips. Maybe I could begin writing the Lonely Planet Guide to Loss and Grief. I sure know way more about the subject than I did when I got those Loss and Grief units in a counseling course I did in what feels like another life. Whatever! I do know I do not know it all. Maybe you can help me fill the stocking with some helpful tips and provide guidance about what really HAS to go in that Lonely Planet Guide.