No, this isn't a joke, I really am not a fan of Christmas.
Although, you would never guess that by looking at the massive amount of Christmas decorations that we have both inside and outside our home. And you'll most likely find a Christmas candle burning with either Christmas music or a movie playing in the background if you came to my house at any point in December. As a matter of fact, I am watching The Santa Claus (one of my Mom's favorites and one of our Holiday traditions) as I type this.
And the fact that I enjoy dressing like a fool and wearing my reindeer antlers any time I get the chance probably doesn't help my case either.
Let me explain...
My childhood was as close to perfect as it could get. Christmas was no exception. Every year, my Dad, Mom and myself used to go to Ann & Hope to pick out our Christmas tree. We waited the obligatory day for the the tree to settle and then the Christmas traditions would begin. Dad was in charge of the lights and Mom and I took care of the rest. We would put Christmas music in the tape player, I would put on my Santa hat and force my childhood dog Goldie to wear something on her head too (some things never change!) and we would decorate the Christmas tree along with the rest of the house.
The Christmas season was always a fun and memorable time in our family. We had family Christmas parties with my aunts, uncles and too many cousins to keep track of. There were cookie exchanges! I always opened a gift from the same aunt every Christmas Eve and it was always new pajamas! Santa (aka one of my uncles), personally came to visit me every Christmas Eve. And there were presents! Lots of presents! There is no delicate way to put it, I was spoiled!
On Christmas morning, our living room was filled (literally, there was hardly any room to walk) with gifts. My stocking was one of those huge obnoxious ones that was also filled. It took us hours to open gifts and I was an only child. I once showed my hot handsome husband a picture of what a "normal" Christmas morning looked like and his response was, "how many people were those gifts for?"
At this point, I bet you're wondering how I could hate Christmas. Stay with me, I'm getting to that part.
Fast forward to 2002. My Mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, had surgery to have the cancer "removed", started chemo and in October the cancer returned. This is obviously the condensed version. Bring me a bottle of wine and I'll tell you the whole story if you're interested. But I digress.
As you can imagine, October through December every year since then have been less than enjoyable. I usually get pretty down and my OCD comes out in full force.
My last Thanksgiving with my Mom was not the greatest. A family friend was kind enough to order us a meal from a local supermarket so unfortunately, we did not have any of our Thanksgiving traditions. At this point, my Mom still had some energy and we could have made the meal together. We were all a little disappointed with our last Thanksgiving together but we still had hope for Christmas.
Christmas Eve arrived and so did all of the family members. At this point, my Mom was quickly going downhill. She spent a good portion of her day napping. She didn't have much strength and relied a lot on my Dad and myself. I can recall several nights that my Dad and Mom slept on the recliners and I slept on the love seat. Mom was no longer comfortable in the bed and she was too weak to walk all the way to the bathroom by herself. We hoped that by all sleeping together, one of us would hear her if she woke up in the middle of the night. These are things that I've never shared with anyone before. Things that my Mom's family were unaware of. So when all of them, and I mean our house was jammed with people, arrived on Christmas Eve, it was a little overwhelming. Mom was awake all day!
Christmas morning arrived and Mom was incoherent and barely rousable. I fought back the tears as I opened presents and tried to pretend everything was normal. I attempted making Christmas dinner myself. Back then, I knew NOTHING about cooking so it was a challenge. We couldn't even wake Mom for any of our Christmas meal. She was exhausted. Her condition was quickly taking a turn for the worse. It was only a day or two later that we welcomed Hospice into our home. And from that year on, Christmas has sucked!
I refused to decorate for a couple years after my mom passed away but then I tried to start enjoying the Holiday season again. I still listen to Christmas music while I decorate and manage to have at least one breakdown every year while putting up all my Christmas decor. I still watch The Santa Claus every year and think of my Mom and I decorate a small Angel tree in her honor.
I hope that someday when I have children, I will start to enjoy the happiness of the season when I am able to see it through the eyes of a child. I look forward to the day when I can start my own traditions with my children and continue some of the traditions I had as a child. Until then, I will decorate our home, fill it with Christmas scents and tons of food, listen to Christmas music, watch Christmas movies and "Fake it until I make it!" Because on the outside it may look like I love the Holiday season but deep down I am hating every second.
I ask that you don't feel sad or sorry for me. I am a strong person and over the years I have learned to cope in my own way. Yes, I have bad days and moments when I start to cry for "no reason" but I'm only human. I ask that you pray for the strength of those who have gone through similar situations during the "joyous" Holiday season and have not yet found their strength.
I want to end this not so upbeat blog by wishing you a Holiday season filled with Love, Joy and Peace.
From my family to yours, Merry Christmas!
