The Christmas bells have chimed. I hope that you were present with the best presents. I hope that every gift brought gratitude. That every sip and every bite nourished your body and soul as it filled your belly. As you look back on Christmas 2022, I hope that your heart is full of joyful memories.
That sentiment is genuine though some may find it hard to find joy this Christmas. Many of us are dealing with loss. This may be a first Christmas without someone. This week the news was that our life expectancy is falling due to Covid, drug overdoses and the other maladies that can end a life too soon. The emotions associated with such losses can change the tone of holidays, birthdays but for some reason Christmas brings about the most emotion around loss.
Christmas 2021, was the last Christmas day that I spent with my mom. I knew that it was. We had been doing Hospice at home with her for a couple of months. While most of the time she had clear thoughts, she didn’t believe it was Christmas day because it was 70 degrees and we went out side with the kids and colored her driveway with chalk flowers. It felt like we were celebrating spring. Things were for sure changing to something new.
Fast forward 3 weeks, mom left us on cloud of January snow. My year since then has been about grieving, accepting, growing, and moving forward. Those things continue to happen in no particular order. Some days I go through those emotions all at once and some days I work through bits and pieces of some of those feelings. It was months before the grandkids would do something amusing and my mind would not think about calling mom to tell her. In time, I learned to look inward knowing she was aware of it all now. I didn’t need a phone to tell her anything anymore.
I wasn’t sure how I would roll with the emotional tides as this Christmas approached. Google photos and Facebook memories would remind me of where I have been in past Christmas times. Along with some great December rows and my silly dog, pictures of mom would pop up. Mom in the kitchen. Mom holding a great grand-baby. Mom watching on as wrapping paper littered the living room floor. Mom collected memories and smiled while I captured the moments in photos. Some of these photos brought tears, a chuckle, and the heavy sighs of loss.
I busied myself this season planning to make food and treats that mom loved to make. One afternoon, I baked cookies with 2 of my grandchildren. One batch was the molasses ginger cookies that make a kitchen smell like Christmas. I could feel mom’s hand guiding me not to make the dough ball too big or too small. The scent of those cookies baking still lingered when I got a FB message from one of my mom’s long time friends. She reported she was making mom’s recipe for cheese spread. She was missing mom but loving the memories. I gave mom’s recipe card box a wink. She knew what I was thinking and I didn’t have to pick up the phone. Mom loved collecting and sharing recipes. I swear I thought I saw that card box light up a bit.
When I asked my granddaughter if she wanted to anything special for Christmas Eve dinner. She asked for pigs in a blanket because grandma would always make those with her for holidays. (Mom was Grandma and I am Gigi) Mom knew kids didn’t like the rich casseroles that grace many a holiday table. The kids needed something special. But what made her pigs in a blanket special was that she would get the kids involved in making them. So Christmas Eve, my granddaughter and I broke out the crescent rolls, cheese, mustard, and hot dogs. I watched with pride as she smiled and reminded me how many times she had done this with Grandma and now she could do it herself. The wireless connection in my heart sent mom yet another nudge. The reply swelled in my heart.
Christmas Eve, as night approached, my grandson had made it clear that this was going to be the night he would catch Santa in the act. He is 7 and we may be in our last year of childhood magic. I wished him good luck. I still planned to sneak something in my daughter’s stocking. My husband and I agreed that, being of that age where we wake up at 3am to resolve certain biological needs, that we would take care of our stocking gifts then. We had our doubts that we would be caught during the whizzing hour.
I awoke a little before midnight to the sound of the door opening and closing multiple times. My daughter was getting what Santa had hid in her car and bringing loads into the house. That boy was going to have to catch Santa in his dreams. Better luck next time, I was thinking when I remembered that I had some of those special Santa Amazon boxes hidden in my room. I delivered them to her in my study/gym/meditation sunroom where she sat, surrounded by boxes and paper. I handed her her the boxes she had almost forgot about and took another quick look at the Christmas cheer that she had worked hard to provide.
As I stuffed her stocking and my husband’s stocking, I was reminded of how many nights I had spent doing that exact same thing for her and her sister. I too was a single mom trying to make the best Christmas that I could for my kids. The stress of, did I get them the same number of things? Or, is it bad that I got American Girls knock off dolls because I didn’t have enough money to get them both the real ones? All those doubts as to whether I was getting Christmas right for them filled me with stress and maybe a little bit of shame; shame that I wasn’t enough. I wondered if mom had those same doubts. I felt the ring-back in my heart. Of course she did, but it was always just fine.
Christmas day I awoke at 5am and snuggled up close to my husband as he crawled back in bed. He reported they were still asleep with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, Merry Christmas sweetie” I said as snuggled in a little closer. We giggled softly like teenagers in the backseat of a car. But then what to my wondering ears did I hear? Why it was the sound of a 7-year-old’s foot falls clambering down the hall bringing his cheer.
“Their here!” My grandson exclaimed as he burst into our room.
“OH my God, honey, who are they and how many of them are there. I need to call 911.” I teased and my disappointed husband settled back into his pillow.
One side of my grandson’s face was lit by the tree from the living room and I could see him smile and look a bit confused. “Not people, Gigi, presents. The presents are here!”
At that moment, I was remembering my brother coming to get me out of bed on many a cold Christmas morning. He would inform me that there were lots of presents and some of them may even be for me.
By 9am my daughter, granddaughter and grandson were stretched out on the couch, watching a movie, and eating breakfast hashbrown casserole, fruit and Christmas stocking chocolate. Their big rescue dog, Brooklyn, was buried somewhere in the mix of paper and cardboard. I was in my comfy chair in my study/gym/meditation sunroom with my little dog Daisy curled up in my lap. I looked up at 3 framed pictures on a shelf. My mom, her mom and my dad’s mom were looking back at me from those photos. I thought, Christmas will come and go for years, but the love that the women in my life put into making every season bright goes on forever. This is a legacy and the circle will not be broken.
God bless us, everyone. God bless everyone missing someone this Christmas. And as I write this, I send a special prayer for peace and comfort to the family of my rowing club’s president, Jana Moore. I just received word that Jana passed away sometime this morning. She leaves behind a daughter and husband. They have lost a mother and wife. Cape Fear River Rowing Club has lost a friend and team mate. The dance community has lost a talented costume maker. Jana supported animal rescue and was a community activist. As the shock of this news washes over me, especially as I am finishing this writing of my personal loss, it drives home all the more that we have one life. We should fill that life with love and peace. When you see a person, that may be your last chance to be kind.
Be present. Be kind. Share your light where you can and enjoy the light of a friend, or loved one when you can. You never know if the next wind will extinguish a flame before you even appreciated how much it brightened a certain corner of your heart.
I am reminded of a Sunday School song. Brighten the corner where you are.
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor “YOU” may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!
Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to she’d your light afar,
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are.
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor “YOU” may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!
Here for all your talent you may surely find a need,
Here reflect the bright and Morning Star;
Even from your humble hand the Bread of Life may feed,
Brighten the corner where you are.
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor “YOU” may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!…
