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I have been blessed with so many Christmases. Christmases of my childhood were filled with simple joys: Buying a Christmas tree with my family and decorating it with shiny pink, turquoise, green and red balls, Christmas concerts at school, going to my grandparents home in Pueblo, Colorado, laughing with all my relatives while eating the best spaghetti and ravioli, caroling with a cousin who played a tuba, buying a new Nancy Drew book the day after Christmas with a dollar I received for Christmas.
Christmases as a young adult were wondrous. Oh, to be in love at Christmas! Does it get any better?
Christmases with my young children were maybe the greatest: making pretty Christmas dresses, sumptuous cookies, planning for Santa, reading great books about elves, Raggedy Ann, and all sorts of creatures, enjoying hot chocolate with a candy cane, Brownie Scout parties, hanging stockings, waking up early Christmas morn to see what the Jolly Ol’ Elf brought.
There were Christmases as a corporate wife, replete with fancy dinners and dresses. There were Christmases as “the boss,” treating my employees to Denver Botanic Garden’s Blossoms of Lights, breakfasts at the Brown Palace, special treats for each.
Christmases as a single person have been special, too. I have gone on carriage rides at night in downtown Denver, seen numerous plays, listened to the hauntingly beautiful Messiah, and threw slips of paper into a burning Solstice fire.
I have been blessed with Christmases with grandchildren, playing silly games, going to school concerts, visiting Santa, listening to wishes.
Once again, I get to experience the magic of Christmas. Somehow through all of it, Christmas for me is still simple and joyful. No one will steal Christmas from me. The no one includes me! I refuse to allow me to not get enough sleep, get concerned about the right presents, how I look, or drink too much wine. I’ve learned the value – immense value – of my health and relationships with family and friends. I love the little slogans – “live and let live” and “how important is it.” They really help me gain perspective, particularly with that “particular person.”
I watch out for Christmas triggers. One of my all-time favorite authors, Melody Beatty, wrote about holiday triggers in her book, “The Language of Letting Go.” Triggers – both positive and negative – are incidents, songs, smells, etc. that spark memories. Not all of my Christmas memories are wonderful. I know that I have reacted strongly to these negative Christmas memories and screwed up my holidays. The key for me is to recognize that trigger and then to pause. I often promise myself that I will write about it in my journal in the morning. I don’t need to react now. This writing activity has served me so well because I have gotten to know myself better and prevented myself from inappropriate action.
This morning one of those triggers occurred. I learned one of my grandchildren needed a sudden x-ray. For a moment, I was a child once again and my mom was in the hospital for Christmas. Ice clinking in a glass is often a trigger for me. I panic, remembering the years of living with an alcoholic and the abusive behavior. Tubas, playing Christmas carols, are another trigger for me. I fondly remember those Christmases caroling with my sister Jan, cousin Mary Lynn, and tuba-playing cousin Philip. Both of my cousins died early deaths. I have to watch out for poinsettias! You know they can’t take cold temperatures. I have watched many of them die instantly as they were placed at December burials of so many of my relatives.
Then, there are the small joys. I don’t think I took much time to enjoy them in Christmases past. The moon, sunrises and sunsets have been spectacular lately. The unexpected snow a day or two ago glistened. I watched an elderly neighbor very carefully walk across the street to give another neighbor a little gift. These ladies have been neighbors for decades. One of them recently celebrated her 92nd birthday.
Merry Christmas! And, to all a good night!
