I could barely wait until Black Friday each year so I could begin my Christmas shopping for the children. Each year they would tell me what they wanted and I would try to get it. I couldn’t wait until we decorated the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, then left milk and cookies for Santa Claus. I would try to remember all of the spots throughout the house where I hid the toys and place them quietly under the tree while the children were pretending to sleep upstairs.
All of a sudden, I could hear them talking. “Do you think Santa is done setting up everything?” The other would say, “There is no Santa Claus, it’s Mommy.” The other would say, “Don’t say that, there is a Santa Claus” as I was wolfing down cookies and milk. Moments later I hear them running down the steps, attacking the Christmas tree looking for their presents.
As the children grew, we continued the same tradition in our home, but they began to pick out their items they wanted and needed. I now witness these traditions I’ve shared with my children being passed on to their children, which makes me smile, but my son is missing out of the equation. You see, he has never had a chance to buy one Christmas present for his son. His son will never have a Christmas picture with his father, or a memory celebrating this holiday season with him.
I can recall there was a time after my son’s murder when I couldn’t listen to a Christmas song, watch a Christmas show or watch regular television around the holidays because I was filled with so much anger and pain. On Christmas morning I would stay in bed for hours crying my heart out because I missed my son much, not realizing the heartache I was placing on my family. I felt rage and I knew I had to change. I realized my feelings unintentionally control my household, whether good or bad.
This is the time of the year families gather and celebrate the holidays together. The homes are filled with laughter and glee; everyone should be happy. Little children are excited to take pictures with Santa Claus at the nearest malls, and toys stores are filled with parents buying presents. Grandparents are calling parents making plans to spend the holidays with their families. Each channel you turn to is either showing a holiday program or commercial while you are at your lowest point in life. Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest to just make it to the next day, but how?
Most people have gone away, only to call every now and again to ask if there are any leads, or to tell you what they heard on the streets while you’re screaming internally trying to make it through the rest of the day. After you hang up the phone, you’re feeling empty and fighting back tears, trying your best to be strong. My question is, what does it mean to be strong? Does it mean you can’t cry? Does it mean to hold your feelings inside and allow them to consume you to the point you’re suffering with headaches, stomach aches, and chest pains?
For some it’s harder to express their pain. Others may find comfort in talking, drinking, drugs, or shopping, while others close themselves up, not allowing anyone in. All of these different actions are signs of depression. Some may continue to work, some will not work, and others will go to work and become overwhelmed.
For some families this may be the first holiday season without their loved one. I can’t begin to tell you all of the emotions you will feel, but know this is just the beginning of never-ending emotions that will consume you each and every day of your life.
As you prepare for the holiday, try to incorporate your loved one in the decorations such as decorate the tree with ornaments with a picture of your loved on in it, get a tree the favorite color of the deceased, make his or her favorite meals, pull out pictures and reminisce.
It’s all right to cry and to allow yourself to release your anger and frustration. Some say to be strong and I look at them and ask, What is strong? When you hold in your pain you are hiding how you feel, which can cause internal damage such as heart problems, and headaches.
During this time of year, one may need to find a psychiatrist to talk to as well as healthy ways to get your anger out. I know this is scary, but you have to let the aggression out and learn new techniques to get you through the holidays without your loved one so you can continue to live your life.
Kimberly Kamara is the author of “Where’s My Daddy,” a children’s book aimed at kids who’ve lost a parent to murder. The book was inspired by her family’s continuing journey of grief after her son, Niam Johnson-Tate, lost his life to gun violence on July 5, 2017. Kimberly has two daughters and lives in Germantown with her husband.
