This has always been my very favorite time of the year. For as long as I can remember I have absolutely loved Christmas time. Not for the presents. Not for the food. Not even for the decorations. What I have always loved about this time of year is the spirit of the season. For me, there is a magic in the air. I can feel it. I always could. As I once told my son, “Yes, I still believe in Santa. Because he is the spirit of Christmas. He represents all the beauty and wonder of the season.”

For as long as I can remember, I have thoroughly enjoyed the holiday season. In high school I made my best friend laugh at my childlike enthusiasm as I excitedly proclaimed, “I cannot wait for the day after Thanksgiving! I can finally start spreading my holiday cheer!!”. Yup, my family had me kindly refrain from getting into the holiday spirit too early. My memories also include cherished things like caroling and delivering fruit baskets to seniors or trudging through the thigh high snow with my dad for the perfect Christmas tree. We baked cookies. We made candy.

 

We made gifts to give. We visited family. We gathered with friends. There were hugs and smiles and laughter.Oh, the reasons are plentiful! But it always factors back to one common theme:love. The giving, the sharing, the baking, the cooking, the gatherings, the helping; it all comes back to love. While I am aware of tragedy,hurt, deceit, and greed that rear their ugly heads from time to time, I also see the little every day miracles. The coworker that helps out a single parent. The stranger that smiles and holds the door. That boss that goes above and beyond to make sure their employees feel appreciated. The friend that hated Christmas and finally released that to embrace it instead. The Christmas spirit is there.

I am a giver; a helper. It is my nature. Others are as well. I am not alone in that trait. But I see it a bit more during the holiday season. Maybe I look for it? Maybe I am all starry eyed and filled with the wonder of the season? But I think it is real. I don’t think it takes much to see. We can all participate in it if we want to. For example, those people ringing the bells, waiting for kind souls to drop change into the bucket? A smile, a kind nod, a handshake, or a thank you go a long way. Or you could be over the top like me and bring them cookies. Another great way to give is a local toy program. Check around. We actually have several in our area. A gentle reminder that kids of ALL ages can participate, so older kid toys are always greatly appreciate. Food donations are another simple, yet needed item. Coats, hats, mittens, for children or blankets for the homeless….the list goes on and on. Simple acts of kindness may be small, but they add up in a hurry. Can you imagine a kinder and gentler world? A marvelous thought, isn’t it? But Christmas time was not always an easy time. Even for this holiday loving goof. There were some very difficult years thrown in. And yet? I did find some beauty as well. I tried to always keep that spirit alive in me. Here are a couple of my tougher years……………….

My son was a Christmas enthusiast when he was very young. Every year he would declare it, “THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!!”. It became tradition. My family waited for and counted on that statement. Around the age of 5 he had a wonderful experience. While out last minute holiday shopping we decided to stop in our local bakery for some breakfast bagels. The bakery was standing room only. My little guy kept occupied by looking at all of the different products. He was taken in by a cinnamon raisin bagel stick. As a single mom, I didn’t have it in the budget to get extra. He was sad but understood. Soon, we noticed a nice gentleman in line behind us. He looked like he had walked right out of the movie, Miracle on 34th Street. With a full white beard, head of white hair, brown over coat, and black cane he certainly looked the part. He looked at me and smiled a kind, gentle smile. He then looked down at my son and said with a little twinkle in his eye, “Do you know who I am?” My son just gaped at Santa. He had no words. He looked up and slowly nodded. Santa said,”I hope you have been good? Are you behaving for your mom?” My son had several emotions ride over his face like a wave. He was a very well behaved child but he had a stubborn streak. We did butt heads on occasion. You could see this weighing heavily on my oh so honest son. Santa smiled, leaned down and said, “Remember. No matter what happened today, tomorrow is always a fresh new today to start again. You can let go of that day and start brand new.”. My son’s face softened and he nodded. Santa then asked if he could purchase the cinnamon raisin bagel stick for my son. As we finished our purchases and left the store, my son said thank you. But once we loaded our items in the car, he felt he needed to say it again. We heard the ding of the bell as the door opened. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Santa leaving. I told my son to run over and say thank you one more time. As we turned to walk back toward the store we were amazed to see…nothing. There was no one there. Santa has just disappeared. That was an experience we spoke of for years to come.

Fast forward several years later to a terrible day. A day that would seemingly forever ruin Christmas for my child. Unbeknownst to me, horrible, mean older kids locked him in a garage and proceeded to unload all of the holiday secrets on him. He left sobbing, declaring that he would never celebrate again. That first Christmas was rough. No longer did my family hear the enthusiastic proclamation. My son flat out hated everything about the holiday now. We had many many talks after that. I told him I still believed in Santa or The Spirit of St. Nicholas. I explained that we can still believe, participate, and enjoy. I asked him if he wanted to give his happiness and joy over to those rotten little children or if he wanted to take back that power and make up his own mind about it all. It took years for him to finally understand my words and our talks. He was always a cut off your nose to spite your face kind of kid. He had to learn that one bad apple didn’t ruin the whole bunch. Eventually, he let go of his hurt and anger. He did it for himself. He did it for his own happiness. And finally, once again, we started hearing the cherished statement, “This is the best Christmas, EVER!”

Having battled several autoimmune issues as a child and young woman, I knew that having a child of my own was going to be nearly impossible. We had alternate plans all laid out. But, as miracles would have it, I did become pregnant. Not long after finding out, the problems began. A few weeks later, I was put on bed rest. This meant we could not join my family for our annual Thanksgiving trip to be with my grandparents and help them decorate for Christmas. I was extremely disappointed as I was the only granddaughter and first to be married and starting a family. I wanted to share my joy with my beloved grandparents. Alas, it was not meant to be. The safety of my unborn babe was the priority. On Thanksgiving Day I called and spoke to everyone. My grandfather was one of the last to speak with me. I loved talking to him. We were close. He even had a nickname for me. He called me, Buggs or Buggsy. On this day, he didn’t have his hearing aids in. With family noise in the background he had a terrible time hearing me. Finally, giving up, he said loudly into the phone, “listen Buggs, I can’t hear you. Just answer me this; are you still pregnant?”. I yelled into the phone, “YES, GRANDPA! I AM!”. He responded with, “GOOD! Keep it that way!”. That was the very last thing I ever said to my grandfather. I was unaware that he had been ill. My parents took him to the hospital the next day. He never left. He passed away three days before Christmas. I will admit it, that was a very very difficult holiday season for me. But that growing baby inside of me and my grandpa’s last words got me through. Now, instead of remembering the sadness surrounding the holiday season, I embrace the love instead. I cherish the memories of my grandfather. Every year, in his honor, we have a toast. We celebrate the life he had; the love he gave. And to honor him even further, when my son was born his nickname became, Bug.

This time of year can be a difficult one for people. I understand. Past hurts, regrets, trauma, etc can leave a tarnished spot on the soul. They find no comfort in the holiday season. They do not have fond memories of this time. My heart goes out to each and every one of you who experience that. Carrying around that kind of hurt is difficult and taxing. My hope is that those of you experiencing this find a little bit of peace in your life. Ultimately it will be up to you whether or not you heal. YOU make the choice to either wrap yourself up in your hurt like a heavy thick blanket or release what you can and lift some of that heavy burden away. The choice lies with you. If you cannot let go of that which hurts you, perhaps you could set it aside for a moment? Just shelve it. Shift your focus for just a time. No one is asking you to enjoy the holiday season. But instead of shutting down and closing off, show up. That’s all. Just show up. Be present. Be in the moment. Just BE. By shelving that hurt, loosening the grip on that blanket of pain, you may find that you hurt just a bit less. Who knows? Maybe you could even find a little enjoyment or peace. If you cannot do it for yourself, do it for your family. Just try. After all, life is nothing but a series of tries. Some great, some good, some not so good, and some down right terrible. But as long as we show up and try, we aren’t failing. And maybe, just maybe, by trying to set aside that hurt and pain for a moment, you can tolerate the holiday season (or any season) just a little bit more.

Whether this season is something you dread and hide from, or something you full on embrace and revel in, may it greet you with peace, with love, and with compassion. May you all take care of yourselves and more importantly, each other. My hope is that each one of us see and experience those little everyday miracles. May all of us find a little more love, a little more light, and a little more beauty in our lives.