One of the things that make the holidays or any family gathering painful after a death is the feeling that the loved one is not only not present, but too often it feels like they aren't even missed. No one mentions the name. There seems to be no difference between this party and any other party in the past. It feels like the loved one has simply passed from the minds of family and friends and the party goes on. 

This adds to the grief. We long for our loved one to be remembered. Every aspect of the party reminds us of how much they would have enjoyed being present and how much that presence would have added to the party or the holiday celebration. Often we wander about trying to fit in and not be a wet blanket, while wanting to scream, "Doesn't anyone remember?" We feel torn between anger that the loved one is not present or acknowledged and the desire to keep from turning the whole affair into some kind of morbid cry-a-thon. 

My grandson, Isaac, died thirty-four hours after his birth. He was born on Christmas Eve and died Christmas day. There is no way our Christmas's could go on without change. We decided to develop a new tradition of remembrance. Each year as we gather to open presents and share the joy of family love, we stop and light a candle in remembrance of Isaac. We spend a few moments talking about how old he would be and realize again how little time we had and how much we have missed during the years since he died. It does not take long and it has never been morbid in any way. It is based on our idea that no one is dead until they are forgotten and we shall never forget Isaac. 

Every year since Isaac died, we have placed a blanket of greenery over his little grave site. It has become more and more meaningful to us with the passing years. We did not get to know Isaac or even hold him until just before he died, but there is such a thing as grieving what you never had or what you wish you had, and we respond to that each year.

I have a dear friend whose daughter died a few years ago. She expressed her feelings of wanting her daughter remembered and acknowledged in the family functions. She wanted her daughter to be present in the minds and hearts of the family even though she could not be so in person, but like it is so often, no one knew how to accomplish that nor how to even bring the subject up.

I gave her a beautiful hand blown torch candle. The kind that burns oil and never wears away. That became "Sally's Candle" to the whole family. It was only lit to on the occasions when the family was together and they wanted Sally remembered. Over the years, the symbolism and the tradition grew in importance until it was something the family never forgot to do.

As the years go by, other members of our family are no longer with us. A few years ago my son-in-law's father, Claude, died. This past year my daughter's mother-in-law, Betty, also died. These two were a vital part of our celebrations at Thanksgiving and Christmas. We have added a candle for each in their honor as well. When we lit the candle for Betty at Thanksgiving her husband Roy pulled out a picture to place there and has made it a point to thank me over and over for stopping to remember. Simple symbol to be sure, but Isaac, Claude, and Betty are with us, remembered and still alive in our hearts.