Friday, December 25, 2009

Comfort, perhaps, if not joy.

There is so much I want to write about Christmas, but for a change I cannot find the words.

Christmas eve mass was beautiful and I was profoundly glad to have started my Christmas at the stroke of midnight with such joyful music. I was also glad for my dad and step-mom, who came with me. S was having a terribly hard day on Thursday and I would have gone to church alone if they hadn't driven out to go with me.

I understood why S was so sad. There were so many things that were part of our Christmas tradition that we did not do this year and probably will never do again. No mixing up magic reindeer food (oats, and my own special magic flying powder that looks remarkably like a combination of glitter and corn starch). No leaving out cookies for Santa. No sneaking downstairs after K went to bed to assemble her special "Santa" present. None of it. Just emptiness.

It about devoured S on Thursday. I ached for his hurt, but couldn't really find the words to comfort him. So I just hugged him and let him be for the day. I was all the more thankful for the distraction of midnight mass, however.

Christmas day was really very pleasant. My dad and step-mom, and my in-laws, came over. We made breakfast strata and fruit and muffins. Everyone brought a little of something. The mimosas were consumed in unheard-of quantities and the conversation was upbeat and careful. It was as happy a celebration as we probably could have hoped for. I got some pretty good swag, truth be told, including a totally awesome seedling cart that I can use to grow my herbs and to start all my seeds for spring planting. Daisy Mae made out like a bandit, with more clothing, art supplies, make-up, perfume, and video games than any kid needs or wants.

It's funny; I never understood why the parking lot at the movie theater was always full on Christmas day. Who on Earth would go to the movies when it was primo family time? And yet, there Daisy and I were, standing in line for the 4:50 showing of Sherlock Holmes. Good movie, by the way. I have found that movies do a good job of filling in empty spaces. I guess a lot of people have spaces to fill on Christmas, because the entire theater was packed. I saw two people ask for tickets for a movie, and when they found their choice sold out, they simply took a ticket for the next movie, whatever it was. Like I said, there are apparently a lot of empty spaces out there. I never knew.

The evening found the phone ringing, non-stop. I am again reminded of how blessed we are to be surrounded by so many friends and family who care about us and want to be sure we know we are loved. Incredible. I hope I never take them for granted.

Joy is pretty hard to come by these days. But for a few days there, we had comfort.


Well, lookee there. I guess I had a few words after all.

3 comments:

bhd said...

Eyes open and hearts broken is how you spent your Christmas. I know the feeling from a slightly different angle.

Take care of Steve. And you. And Daisy Mae. *hugs* Or let me. I can do it.

Ms. Creek said...

fill those empty spaces with events encircled by family...good plan...

peace to all

Anonymous said...

yes, there are lots of empty spaces, and no way to fill them.