Or The Holiday Blues
Or Sometimes My Smile's Fake on the Cards I Never Get Around to Sending
It's been rough here lately.
Here's a snapshot:
I sit on the couch crying.
"Do you want me to go get a tree or not?" Nick asks.
Its Wednesday night, the 10th of December, all our Christmas stuff still sits in the garage, including our two advent calendars, packed away last January in plastic bins and shoe boxes, stuffed with newspaper and paper towels, stifled like the holiday spirit inside me.
"I don't know. I want you to...but I also want to go as a family. I just ...I'm not in a place to make decisions."
"Alright, I'll be back."
Instead of getting a tree, Nick returns with the boxes from the garage, I watch as he opens them. He pulls out the kids' santa hats, the second one purchased at a thrift store after they fought over the first, he unveils a dried flower wreath from our neighbor Anne, the reindeer candle holders I brought back from the Senior Center, and a whole stack of Christmas stories.
The books get me: We should have been reading them already.
You know, that judgmental voice that monitors our motherings and constantly marks our failed attempts with red F's.
What's wrong with me?
Sitting here now on a Sunday, high from hockey and my husband's love, I can answer that question.
I just needed to sing sorrow's chorus, hold the low notes, and mourn with the moon, with the child in my office who sat across from his father only to hear he lost his mom, with the darkness where my Aunt Patty's spark once lived, with the women worldwide daring to speak their truth about powerful men, with the harmonious shouts of "Hands up", "I can't breath", "Black lives matter," with the wild weather pummeling us for neglecting the meaning of that word-- wild-- in our quest for more fabricated things, with the longing, still, after ten, almost eleven years, for a smoother parenting road, without so many miles between stones, one that brings me a little closer to typical, to the pathway I imagined before the premature arrival of my son.
I just needed to sing sorrow's chorus.
Sometimes we need to release all the sad songs, so our mind can settle enough to hear love knocking on our dooor, singing joy to the world.
Joy to the world...
Totally get it Christy. You and I are in the same boat and there are some days that just overwhelm me completely. Use Christmas time to refill your heart with good. It is a time of joy and celebration. This is where God wants you to be for it will draw you closer to Him and that will give you the strength to persevere. None of this is easy. With Love,
Posted by: Lexie | 12/15/2014 at 03:14 AM
Love this. Tears while I wait for this f@*#king train. I definitely relate to longing for a smoother road.
Posted by: Meg | 12/15/2014 at 04:49 AM
Christy,
I'm sitting here in my office crying over your words. (I'm the one who sent you a post long ago when I cried in a Subway reading your post.) I don't cry all the time, regardless of how this sounds! It's just... I feel that pull towards Christmas perfection and I was so un-perfect this weekend with my three kids--restless and brooding, and... sometimes I would just like to be a kids again, you know?
Posted by: Sally Cobau | 12/15/2014 at 06:49 AM
Oh Christy. You are not alone. Hope to remind ourselves in darkness that we will see light again soon. Light candles and Christmas lights in the dark Alaskan winter. Some days are brighter than others.
O Holy Night is one of my favorites.
Posted by: Greta | 12/15/2014 at 07:06 AM
Thanks all, and yes I too long to be a kid, especially this time of year, back when I believed, without all the worry and responsibility of parenthood. And yet here I am, in this life that is so filled with love and yet still so hard and some days I just need to let go and brood in the darkness. And you know, I usually feel better afterwards. We did go get a tree on Saturday as a family and then decorated it on Sunday. Slowly, my mood lightens...
It helps to know I'm not alone with these feelings.
Posted by: Christy | 12/15/2014 at 02:02 PM
As if we don't have enough on our minds and now we need to "make magic". It is exhausted and I totally get where you were when you wrote this post. Luckily, it does usually pass and we realize that the extra effort is worth it. I'd be lying not to admit that I do actually love January too with it's quietness, low expectations and fresh starts. Oh and happy birthday wishes to O!
Posted by: fleming | 12/17/2014 at 09:43 AM
There is NOTHING wrong with you. And every family faces these moments…and mothers give themselves a lot of grief over them, needlessly. Just let it wash over and away. You love and are loved. There are good days and bad. It's all part of a big picture. If you think about a painting, imagine how dull it would be if it were monochromatic! It needs light and shadow, depth and surface, black and red to give it life. Danielle in Zurich
Posted by: Danielle | 12/19/2014 at 06:37 AM
If I have my dates right, Olive turned 5 yesterday and though all of you don't really know me- I love all of your stories. If I am wrong on the date- just mark it up to old age. But if I am right, please wish her a very Happy Birthday from another December Birthday person-mine is the 22 and our daughter is the 23. In our family you have to never ever give one present for both birthday and Christmas- that is totally frowned upon! I have to be so careful to wrap all of my daughter's birthday presents in non Christmas paper!!! Our daughter's serious beau totally blew it last year by giving her one present for both- I hope he gets it right this year! But please wish Olive a very Happy 5th Birthday and I so hope I got it right!! XOX
Posted by: Noel Dennehy | 12/19/2014 at 05:36 PM