It’s almost Christmas and I’m not ready. I’ve bought gifts, mailed cards, prepped food, baked cookies, decorated tree and house, delivered toys to various charities, chaperoned the kindergarten party, extended holiday greetings, allocated financial gifts for year-end, wrapped Christmas around our lives and tied the bow. Yet the spirit of Christmas eludes me.
I feel lost in Christmas past. I yearn for the celebrations of my childhood even though my memories are not filled with joy. For my first twelve years, my parents accepted the traditions of their parents. No matter where we lived, we would travel to my grandparents’ home in Atlanta for Christmas. Tension climbed as swiftly as oven temperatures when preparing the holiday meal. I would watch the play of personalities, attempts at control, and frantic movements within the small room we had all gathered while hiding behind the curtains. That is until I was dragged upon stage as the oldest grandchild. Then I would intentionally flub my lines and frown when I was supposed to shriek with surprise in order to exit stage right. I can see through adult lenses why the child lost focus on the meaning of the season.
But this was Christmas to me. This was my family, and strangely, the stress and disappointments felt normal. There would always be somebody upset, somebody trying to hold it all together, somebody hopeful, somebody panicked, somebody entertained by the festivities, and somebody that couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over.
Why do we idolize our childhood experiences? Golden light is cast upon a scene where we want to linger; we revisit those hours if only in our minds. Why does that light color our current Christmas?
I can relate to behavior of my child as I see the countdown to the ‘big day’ progress. He’s moody, tired, easily bored, anxious yet annoyed that he cannot seem to make it to Christmas without hearing, “Santa is watching…” repeated during the day. This holiday is centered on children and he has the unenviable position of being the only child on both sides of the family. It’s a laser-beam spotlight. I want to take him into my arms and hold him in the shadows until the new year starts.
Last night he awoke with a bad dream. As I assured him he was safe and rocked him back to sleep, I almost fell asleep in the chair holding him. The weight of the holiday preparations had exhausted me. Now we were one day closer. All was calm, babe in arms, and our world was at peace.
Christmas has never felt so far away.
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*sniff* I wish we were going to see you soon so I could give you a hug, dear friend. Sounds to me like rocking Ben back to sleep was just what you both needed. :-) I think a lot of this is just fatigue, mental and physical... We moms tend to forget that it's OKAY to sit down, slow down and find a moment to restore our balance. I "hid" at my office and read a book for an hour and a half the other night - yes, I had a million things I should been doing but it did wonders for my mental state! For now I'm just going to wish you, instead of "Merry Christmas," a special day filled with love of all kinds. And by the way, *I* appreciate you very much!!
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