The Holiday Season Can Be Hard for Caregiving Families
At the beginning of each holiday when our son was hospitalized or we chose to stay home, I grieved what our young family would miss. However, as we experienced each holiday with people who weren’t part of our extended families, I found pockets of joy…
Written by Jolene Philo
The holiday season can be hard for caregiving families. I spent Halloween, New Year’s Eve, and my birthday the hospital with our infant son. Because of his precarious health when he was young, several times we made the difficult choice to stay at home for Thanksgiving and Christmas instead of spending it with extended family.
I didn’t like making those choices. I didn’t want to miss the holiday traditions I’d experienced growing up. On our birthdays, we chose the menu for dinner and whatever dessert we desired. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent with either Mom’s extended family or Dad’s, the women gathering the day before to prepare feasts that culminated in the most delicious homemade pies I’ve ever eaten.
At the beginning of each holiday when our son was hospitalized or we chose to stay home, I grieved what our young family would miss. However, as we experienced each holiday with people who weren’t part of our extended families, I found pockets of joy.
We met nurses and doctors who gave up time with their families to keep our baby alive.
Our son received balloons and toys in the hospital.
We talked on the phone with our parents.
We received newsy letters and cards from extended family members.
We spent holidays with friends, sampling their unique Thanksgiving food traditions.
I perfected the family recipes for pie crust and fillings and brought them to share with friends.
Our 15-year-old son, when hospitalized for his final surgery, met his favorite NFL quarterback.
As each pocket of joy became part of my life, I could acknowledge my very real grief about what we missed without being devastated by it. I could move forward in faith, knowing that God would salve what we had lost with what would be gained. I could look forward to pockets of joy.
The holiday season can be hard for caregiving families, but there are simple ways to insert pockets of joy into them.
Here are a few for you to try.
Prepare the same holiday feast as your far away loved ones and eat together during a Zoom or FaceTime call.
Schedule a time for extended family to watch a holiday movie and real time chat about it on social media.
Distribute care packages, prepared by your family and friends, to hospital workers who are caring for your child during the holidays.
Create fun family traditions that can be practiced at home, in the hospital, or wherever else you find yourself during the holidays.
The holiday season can be hard for caregiving families, but pockets of joy can be powerful. Our son is almost 40. When he reminisces about the holidays of his childhood, he doesn’t mention what he missed. He mentions pockets of joy–favorite toys, movies watched together, learning to make pies and other holiday treats. And best of all, having his picture taken with Elvis Grbac, the quarterback of his beloved Kansas City Chiefs.
Written by Jolene Philo
Jolene Philo is the mother of a son born with life-threatening special needs and the daughter of a father severely affected by multiple sclerosis. In her 25 years as an educator, she integrated children with special needs into her classroom. She’s written 5 books about caregiving, special needs parenting, and childhood PTSD. She recently co-authored a book with Dr. Gary Chapman about how parents of kids with special needs can use the 5 love languages in their families.
Jolene speaks at conferences around the country and internationally, facilitates classes about childhood trauma for educators, and trains special needs ministry leaders and volunteers. She blogs at www.DifferentDream.com. She and her husband live in Iowa.
REST
I had big plans for the vibe my family would have. I love classical music and jam band music and Bob Marley. I love cozy blankets and crackling fires. I love the beautiful smells and sounds and sites of nature. I love all things calm and soothing and soft and comforting and chill. I think it’s always been my way to cope with my own anxiety, and I always pictured the perfect workplace for me would be a spa. I had every intention of carrying that vibe over into how I parented and the lifestyle our family would thrive in.
Oh boy. It has been far from the reality of how things have been going…
Written by BreAnn Tassone
I had big plans for the vibe my family would have. I love classical music and jam band music and Bob Marley. I love cozy blankets and crackling fires. I love the beautiful smells and sounds and sites of nature. I love all things calm and soothing and soft and comforting and chill. I think it’s always been my way to cope with my own anxiety, and I always pictured the perfect workplace for me would be a spa. I had every intention of carrying that vibe over into how I parented and the lifestyle our family would thrive in.
Oh boy. It has been far from the reality of how things have been going. In muddling through the parenting of young children and the task of figuring out the special needs we have in our home, it has been anything but chill. It has been beautiful and full of love and happiness, but it has also been frantic, electrified, a tad loud and flat out buzzing in our home. I laugh as I type this, because we can plan and envision our future all we like. We just aren’t in charge of the twists and turns our life will take. My sharing this is in no way a complaint. I have none, aside from the fact that I’d love a little more sleep. Just a little. It's a fact. Our vibe is the opposite of the therapeutic calm I maintained in my home as a single woman.
I recently read an article about the effects of hyper-focusing on our children. I think the piece was probably written with a typical child-rearing experience in mind, but it stung a little reading it. It made me ask myself a couple of questions. Am I too hyper-focused on the needs in our home, and missing the calm and chill we all would benefit from? Am I able to turn this buzz off by creating that vibe I so desire here, that I had always intended before things got so hard? Can I just rest even within the frantic? Those thoughts all flew through my mind as I read this article.
Then the thought that pops into my mind so often, did just that. It popped in. “But, we’re different”. I have to constantly assess needs and if I’m not focused in, I might miss it. One of the systems we have in place, may fail if not surveilled each moment. And we are different, but hasn’t it been my mission to convince the World that all people are different, and in that way we are the same? We are not so different, that this message should not apply to us as well. We are loving parents. Ensuring that every need is met is important, but the focus of our entire family life does not have to be based on our children. While meeting the special needs we’ve encountered, it feels time to rest in terms of the hyper-focus I’ve felt to this point.
It occurred to me that I had gotten very swept up in figuring it out and in the research and in the moments that I felt helpless in. It clicked that my children will benefit from the calm I’ve always clung to as a coping mechanism for myself. It’s almost as if, in the flurry of the last few years, I’d forgotten how to procure an environment of rest.
After mulling over this, I started claiming some peace and calm at home for myself, but for my children, as well. We can parent our special needs family members well without putting all of our focus on parenting. In removing the unseen microscope from the members of our family, each one can exhale. And if we need anything, after the whirlwind of navigating PANS/PANDAS in our case, we all need rest. We need rest during all of the storms of life.
We are still well within the storm on many days, but I can relax. My kids can, too.
Written by BreAnn Tassone