I have been having quite a struggle this year, finding anything even remotely resembling the Christmas spirit. We had fun on our annual Christmas tree hunt in the forest, laughing and tromping through the bushes and brush to find that perfect, wild Charlie Brown tree. If I do say so myself, I believe we outdid ourselves this year! It's beautiful, and reaches all the way to the ceiling, takes up a good portion of the living room and I love looking at it. But even with all the fun and the lights, the spirit just hasn't been there like it should be. We decorated the house with our Santa and Nutcracker collections, set out my Christmas teapots and cookie jars, hung wreaths both outside and in . . . just doesn't feel right. We have shopped and baked, made plans and gone to parties - fun and sweet, but in a bitter sort of way. We're down to the countdown of hours and minutes now, yet it just hasn't seemed like it should be Christmas already. The year went by so fast, we had so much go on, and it hasn't felt right.
I have been putting off thinking about the fact that it's my daughter's first Christmas away from home. Because she's missing, there's a piece of Christmas missing from my heart this year. The feeling is familiar to me, since it's the same hollow feeling that I had when my son was on deployment out of the country two Christmas's ago. No matter how hard I try, everywhere I look there is a reminder that a seat is empty where it should be filled, there are traditions being altered because she isn't here to enjoy them too, and there are treats I won't be baking simply because they are her favorites and truth be told nobody else would eat them without her. We talk every day, and she's feeling the same way I am, which doesn't make me feel better - no, it just makes it worse. She got her gifts from us today, UPS delivered them as promised, and true to form, she's begging to open at least one early - the pajamas she knows are there because she's gotten a pair of pajamas every Christmas in her memory, and she always opened them before she even emptied her stocking. She'd rip the paper off, squeal with glee and disappear into the other room to change into them so she was all snuggy and warm while she opened her gifts. She's munched on the cookies we baked for her, and has been shaking the gifts that are sitting under their tree. It's the best I could do from far away and I would do it again, but it's just not the same.
This afternoon though, something shifted a bit. I'm home from work today, as I always am on Wednesdays, and I've spent the day puttering around the house. The scent of ginger molasses cookies is in the air, fudge is piled on a decorated plate, coconut macaroons and peppermint biscotti are waiting for their coat of melted chocolate, and the meat sauce for tomorrow's Christmas Eve lasagne is simmering on the stove, the aroma of garlic drifing in and out of the other delicious smells that define preparation for this day for me. I found myself humming, and smiling to myself as I turned on the lights for the tree and half listen to Miracle on 34th Street in the background. Whether I was ready for it or not, Christmas is here, and it's not about things staying the same, or resisting change, or feeling sorry for myself . . .
I am feeling the spirit of Christmas as I ask God for peace in my heart about my daughter, and for the day to pass by with my family safe, sound and healthy, no matter where they may be spending Christmas morning, and no matter who they are spending it with. Our Lord was born on this day and it's His birthday we celebrate, not the modern traditions we impose on our schedules. My heart feels lighter, it feels happier, and I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.
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