This Christmas has been different. The entire year has held a number of events that make me take pause as I sit here in the dark staring at the Christmas lights fill the corner of the room. Like every year, there have been ups and downs. The downs however have been a little lower than most years. This Christmas I am no longer a kid.
I look at the lights. I let my mind wander to Christmases in the past. I can remember the Christmas in which my brother and I got in trouble for spying and discovering our presents. Memories stream by of Christmases in which my brothers and I would sit and play with our gifts – I still can feel the Goodyear Blimp model in my hand as the messages rolled past. I can hear the whimpers of a small, young Old English Sheep dog as she lay in the GI Joe tent. My dad woke us so early that I couldn’t even register that it was a real dog. Meals, families, trips, celebrations, and so much more come to mind. In the end, they are just memories. I am no longer a kid.
It may seem odd that at 51 I am stating that I am no longer a kid. Actually, those who know me probably would state that I wasn’t a kid even when I was a kid. I was old even when I was 10. This year is different.
As most who read my posts already know, we are only three months from saying good-bye to my mom. This is that dreaded first holiday after losing a loved one. We have all gone through it. So many of my friends have already lost both parents and spent many a holiday with just memories. That first one is the strangest. This was that year. We have gone 36 Christmases without my dad, but in all that time, having my mom around still allowed me to feel like a kid at holidays because she was there. This year I am not a kid.
I need to break at this point and state that this is not a plea for sympathy or sadness. I am just stating what is going on. I celebrate my mom and the time I had with her each and every day. Today, I held her even closer to my heart. It is only now as the last few moments of the holiday tick away do I really take in the fact that this year is different.
Leading up to the holidays, life was so busy that I never really had the chance to think about the hole that would be there for the family celebration. The universe kept me hopping and that was okay with me. I didn’t want to go down that tunnel. Life gave me a detour. Eventually, life quiets and you have no choice but to face reality.
Last night we had our family celebration at my brother’s house just like every other year. When you put that many people into one house, it is loud, busy, and chaotic. Quite honestly every time I tried to think of my mom, something happened to keep me from allowing the thoughts to grow. In hindsight, I think she had a hand in this since that would have been the last thing she would have wanted. This morning was even faster as we woke, unwrapped the presents, and ran out the door for a two-hour drive to Pennsylvania to be with more family.
We spent the day with a wonderful group of family that included a three-year-old and our nine-year-old. No time for sentimental thinking. Then the drive home happened. After two whirl-wind days, the conversation was light to non-existent. I drove in silence listening to Christmas music (something I do all year long). As we reached Western New York, Christmas Shoes came on the radio – you know the song about the little boy trying to get that last gift for momma before she meets Jesus. That is when life no longer tried to keep me from thinking. I started thinking about all the things my mom did when we were growing up to make Christmas special for my brothers and me. I would never be able to count all of the cookies we made together during our early years. We were never banned from helping out, as a matter-of-fact it was expected. I remembered my dad filming the presents being opened on a camera that included a 3-foot light bar. My mom cooking dinner filled my senses. All those times, after losing my dad, that my mom hid her own sadness and loneliness to ensure that happiness filled the house on Christmas day. Everything came rushing back as I imagined her being with Jesus tonight.
I think the moment when it really hit home came shortly after coming back into the house. I went to pick up the phone to call my mom to let her know that we had arrived back safely from our trip. I wanted to ask her how her Christmas had been. I picked up the phone and realized that her number is no longer there. I was no longer a kid and that would never be again.
I have already stated that this is not about sympathy for I was with my mom tonight. I put our daughter to bed and thought about the day. I could hear my mom telling me that now it was my turn to ensure that our daughter continues to have those types of memories that she had given to us. She told me to not be sad for her because she is no longer alone or sad. She commanded me to give our daughter the gift of me more than gifts under the tree. I sit here and watch her sleep under the tree by her bed and pray that I can give her Christmases that will only bring good memories when the time comes when she no longer has me.
I miss my mom. There is no denying that and any attempt to do so would just be lies. However, sadness is not in my heart. Thankfulness is in my heart. Love is over flowing from every vein. Smiles fill my face. Arms that cannot be seen rest on my shoulders and give a squeeze every once in a while. I had 50 years of Christmases with my mom, for that I cannot be sad for there are so many who do not get that chance. I am thankful for each and every Christmas. I am blessed with memories that will come to me each and every Christmas. I would give anything for her to have been here this year, but I will be grateful for the years that we had.
Tonight I am no longer a kid. I am only a parent. I pray each and every second of every day that I can do half as good of a job as my parents. I realized that I am still opening presents from my parents for they set the bar high for me. They taught me how to do this right. Without the love that I still receive from them, I could not, would not be me.
For those who have lost a loved one this year. I know the hole you have in your heart. It will never close, but it will get better over time. For those who have lost one or both parents, I pray that you can find peace with them being with God. For those who still have one or both parents with them, give them an extra hug. Pick up a phone and check on them. Make memories so that when you are no longer a kid, you have memories to fill the void that will be there.
I hope you all had a good day be it Christmas, the second day of Hanukkah, or just a day. Thank you for meandering with me.