Birth, death, and birth again: The complex emotions that December brings - opinion

“Dear readers,” I wrote, brushing the crumbs of a hastily eaten dinner from my fingers as I sat at my desk, “I need your help. It seems the month of December plays chess with my soul, and every year I find myself boxed in.” 

I am inviting you to join me in a journey of healing, and hope you find yourself in one of my descriptions.

December is a complex tapestry of emotions for me, intertwining joy and profound loss as I navigate personal milestones and memories tied to the month. My reflections reveal the duality of celebration and sorrow, especially with significant events like my birthday, my daughter’s passing, and the birth of another daughter occurring in close succession as I confront my past and evaluate my goals. 

I do feel a profound shift in perspective after such a significant event like the Hamas mega-atrocity of Oct. 7. A trauma like that can awaken gratitude for the everyday blessings we often take for granted. This newfound appreciation for life’s simple joys are a source of strength and motivate me to pursue my aspirations, even amid adversity. 

Embracing this sense of gratitude, despite having been through such a huge loss like losing my daughter, helps me navigate difficult emotions. But it also fosters a deeper connection with those around me who share in this collective experience. 

Maybe what scares me the most is the birthday coming up, the importance of this milestone and facing where I am and where am I going. Am I happy with this older version of myself? Could I do more and better? Is my daughter proud of me as she looks down from heaven? 

This morning, for example, I can hardly make myself orange juice, as I feel frozen physically and mentally. I feel bad for reacting this way, knowing that a birthday is a celebration and I should be happy to be alive (something we don’t take for granted here) and have my wonderful children and husband. 

Yet, I am human, and today I feel down, thinking of all my mistakes, all the trains I missed along the way, all the opportunities I didn’t seize, and all I could have been. But then a simple message from my sister flashing on my phone lifts me up in an instant: “It’s your month; remember you are a powerhouse.”

I can breathe a little, so maybe I am not such a disaster. 

To have a strong drive for achievement, often bordering on unrealistic expectations, while also feeling the weight of constant dissatisfaction, can be amazing but also exhausting. Maybe I should learn to embrace a balance that allows me to indulge in my ambitions while also enjoying simpler pleasures like shopping, which I do not enjoy (yes, there are women like me!).

Yet my tortured mind works backward. The moment I let myself go, I keep thinking that something bad will happen: my husband lost his business, my child failed an important test, or maybe I am sick and don’t know it…

The question is simple: Can we have it all? What am I ready to give up, and for what? What am I ready to sacrifice of my impossible personality in order to find some peace of mind?

Juice spills on the computer; I need a break. I can really knock myself out. Yet, I do tend to see the glass as half full, sometimes even overflowing; and every day, I recognize the power and gift of what God has given me. He made me a woman – Jewish, religious, and very aware of the path I still have ahead. Every second I do not spend fulfilling my destiny is wasted forever. 

Heavy stuff. Now I understand why He made me Italian, too – to give me some of that free, fun Italian state of mind that still lives deep within me.

An emotional conversation from five years ago

FIVE YEARS ago, I taped an open conversation on camera with a good friend of mine who also lost a child. We laughed, cried, and put our hearts on the table; it was raw, real, and intense. The interview was seen by many, and we received incredible feedback on how it helped others who have gone through loss. 

However, the best comment I received was from a girl I had met in America. She recognized me from that conversation, which she had seen because it was assigned to her psychology class as homework. She shared with me that her teacher had told the students: “This conversation is like 10 hours with a psychologist.”

Maybe I should have pursued that… nah, I would drive my clients crazy.

I look up into the sparkling night sky filled with stars and finally smile – realizing that each year continues to echo my life’s story, one word at a time. 

Dear reader, I thank you today for listening to me and letting me spill my soul; you have always been there for me.

Happy December to you, too. 

Watch the interview here:

The writer, originally from Italy, lives in Jerusalem with her husband and four children. She heads HadassahChen Productions and hosts a weekly talk show on Arutz Sheva.