Skip to main content

'Tis the Season

The question came up today: What do you want for Christmas? Now, you might be thinking "Isn't November a little early to jump into Christmas?!" but stay with me on this...

For the last decade, Christmas has been bittersweet. It's the time of year when my grandma swears she's dying and that this is her last Christmas with us. We deck the halls and binge on Christmas movies until we're convinced that love is just one kiss under the mistletoe away. Christmas isn't a day, but months of fighting with darkness.

Three years ago, just after quitting my job to be a full-time caregiver, we found ourselves sitting vigil at Grandma's bedside in the hospital. For two weeks, we wondered what would become of us if she didn't recover from whatever mystery that had left her unable to communicate and unaware of her surroundings. Since then, each week (sometimes, each hour) has been lived in a kind of triage as we try managing the pain and heartache that comes with her deteriorating health and the dysfunctional family dynamics that make her care all the more stressful. In the dark and honest breaks in the day, when all is quiet and I sit watching the world carry on, I wonder if I'll have the strength to keep going when there is no longer someone who needs me.

These are the thoughts that greet me as we drag out the tree.

Loneliness accompanies the stockings that get hung.
Heartache greets me as we light up the tree.
Longing sings beneath the joyful chorus of carols.

Each decoration is a fight against hopelessness, an act of defiance in the face of sorrow that threatens to consume me. The gifts and advent calendars are promises of a tomorrow, an anticipation of something good. In all, these things are reminders of hope, and the one thing I ask for at Christmas (the one thing I need above all else) is hope.

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Of Jessie Trees and Dreams

Have you ever come away from a situation and questioned what you're doing in life? Not in the negative way we're used to, where you lay out the list of comparisons and see nothing but failure. But questioning in a way that is actually helpful. Like asking yourself "Hey, you once had dreams right? What were they and what stopped you from going after them?" Or when you realize that the sounds of children running around and being silly was a different (and absolutely preferable) kind of loud compared to the tv blaring Hallmark movies and old westerns all day. Last night, I spent the evening with people I'd never met in real life (though Twitter is another story entirely). We shared a meal around the table, laughed as the boys performed skits between slices of pizza, had my first experience with a Jessie tree, and heard myself saying "THIS (the family moments) is what I look forward to the most." I drove home thinking about the different ways in which hope a...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Quite Return

Dear reader, It's a truth universally acknowledged that a writer never ceases to write, but merely stores up the words they long to share until they can no longer be contained. With that sentiment that I say "I never stopped blogging. I simply took a very long break after gutting my blog." I think it has been four years since deleting my entries and walking away from chronicling my ongoing conversion to Catholicism, the years as a part-time at-home caregiver, and my interest in swing dance. The time since then has been...rough. In just the last few years, we've made it through multiple surgeries, another battle with anemia, heartbreak, reunions, weddings and deaths. I've said before that to write is to exercise one's demons. I feel that at last, it's time to pick up my pen and return to battle.
Post a Comment
Read more

Greet Them With an Ax

I spotted a bearded ax at the renaissance fair one year and joked that with it, I could finally stand up to rude and unruly family by merely greeting them at the door with the dragon-etched tool. It drew a laugh from my grandma and the next day, that ax hung on my wall. I shared the story with our bible study group last night when the subject had somehow turned toward toxic relationships. You see, I never actually wielded that ax while opening the front door to dubious family members, but the idea took on a life of it's own. Whenever family pushed Grandma to the point where her health or safety was affected, I would ask "do you need me to greet them with an ax?" With a simple yes, I would step in and be the muscle that she needed. I would announce the unpleasant news or dispense the medicine of action needed to steer Grandma back to health. The idea of the ax was like an extra backbone, someone to step in when boundaries were ignored, or be a source of strength when som...
Post a Comment
Read more