Christmas and Mom

Garland wrapped around the long wooden bannister from our upstairs loft to the main floor of our house.  Small, red velvety ribbons were attached at evenly spaced locations along the garland.  The end post was one large red ribbon with a small dangly cat toy placed to divert the attention of the cats.

The tree was an artificial one, modest in size.  Having had issues with tinsel and cats, we had mostly matching round ornaments, almost artfully hung, decorating the tree... perhaps a few additional strands of garland tightly hugging it to help fill it out a bit.  Christmas lights brought the ambiance to the room.  Most were wrapped around the tree itself, while others were evenly strung back and forth in the loft upstairs.  Stockings hung from the mantel above the fireplace.

TV trays were brought out in the weeks preceding Christmas, and were the resting place of many, many chocolates, cookies, and snacks.  Speculaas cookies, Toffifee, and Pot of Gold chocolates were favorites and were quickly devoured.  Tins of specialty cookies were always present.  Mom loved the cookies and always kept the tins.  The top shelf of the kitchen was lined with these tins.

Dad often worked on Christmas day so we would choose a day beforehand.  The night before would be a feast of oysters, pickles, meats, crackers and cheeses.  We'd play board games and cards until very late at night.  It really truly felt like the most magical night spent together - as a family - in anticipation of the next day.  It never mattered to us that it wasn't December 25th.

Russ and I would wake at the crack of dawn and examine whatever presents we had collected under the tree.  We'd help ourselves to our stockings and anxiously wait for mom and dad to wake up.  We'd eat breakfast and immediately afterwards, the wrapping paper would begin to fly.

I remember warmth, happiness and togetherness.  I remember celebration and recollection of the year past.  I remember the anticipation and the magical feeling it held.  I want this feeling for my kids.

Inevitably, as time lapsed on, things changed.  Russ got married and started his own family, finding himself balancing the time now between two sets of families - ours and Nicole's.  I graduated and Reno came in to my life.  Kids came in to the picture, and very quickly this favorite holiday became one I didn't really care for anymore.  It lost the magic feeling.  I felt torn between two families with two different traditions in two different cities and two different expectations.  Suddenly I didn't have just one family to celebrate and visit with, I had two.  Christmas became a time of scheduling visits, traveling and always feeling like I'm letting one family down, even though the expectation is that years would alternate.  It became a holiday of fulfilling obligations.

It's sad to think that after several years, the tree wasn't even put up at mom and dad's if neither of the families were able to make it that year.  The festivities essentially stopped and traditions changed.

This year will be the first year without Mom. 

I don't know if any of you watch Parenthood, but it's a fantastic series.  I watched the latest episode (a Christmas one), and if you don't want me to spoil it for you then skip the following section:



*** SPOILER ALERT ***


Kristina is a mother of 3 children, and is married to Adam.  She's been sick with breast cancer (spread to her lymph nodes), and is on chemotherapy.  Following a treatment, she becomes very ill with an infection, and they nearly lose her.  While waiting in the room with Kristina, unsure if she will make it, Adam watches the video she has left for her children in the event that she passes. 


*** End SPOILER ALERT ***



The parallels in that scene and in my own mother's death were devastating and I bawled.  And bawled.  And bawled.

I was so worked up over it, in fact, that I hardly slept last night.  I woke up with a massive headache and a stomach in knots.  I didn't go to work because of it, and while the guilt of missing work usually hits me hard, I didn't even notice it. 

I'm in a funk today, and it's hard to get out of it.  It's a funk that's slowly crept up the last couple of weeks.

What I remember of what Christmas was like, I feel like I've lost for my parents... I feel like we've lost it for Reno's as well.  We haven't given it to our own children.  I don't feel like traveling each and every Christmas to varying places and splitting up time is how I want to spend Christmas with my family.  I'd like to have the special evening.  Have the feasts, have the recollections, have the games, and just have the closeness... in my own house.  I'd like to have our tree with our presents in our house with our stockings on our fireplace and have our children come wake us up in the morning with that look of excited anticipation of what today is going to bring.

This year, we're going to try this at my brother and sister-in-law's, and even though the travel isn't always easy, this Christmas is going to be different.  This Christmas is going to be feasts, visiting, and game playing, but it's also going to be a remembrance.  We're going to remember Mom.  We're going to honor her and the traditions she shared with us as a family.  We're going to live it up like it was 15 years ago, and I'm sure it's going to hurt.

In fact... it already hurts.

I miss my mom something fierce.  I have these dreams of her, and what's most painful about them is that I don't remember she's actually gone while I'm in the dream.  Having her close... being able to talk to her and hold her is normal in the dreams, and it's not until I wake up that I panic that I didn't remember to give her that giant hug and tell her I love her.  I called the house the day before she died and she didn't feel up to talking at the time.  I didn't get the chance to say "I love you" one last time.  I want that one last time.

I realize this post is some weird amalgamation of my feelings about mom and my feelings about Christmas, but they are linked in my memories.  I want Christmas to be as I remember it.  I want to re-ignite that childhood giddy, happy feeling.  I'm not sure how it's going to happen, but I don't want to feel the pressure of obligations that are plagued with guilt.  I'd like to feel free to make choices as a family and begin our own traditions.

I know, I know.  I'm a bit of a mess.... ;)

Michelle