I started this blog a decade ago to help me navigate the many changes in my life for which I had no road map. I frequently would find myself softly crying, not able to articulate why. So my catch phrase became, “I’m just having a moment.” Thus the name of my blog was born.
I’ve been away for awhile. But the holiday threw me a curve ball.
Yesterday I found my self unsuccessfully holding back tears as I hugged my twenty six year old son goodbye before he left to spend Christmas with his fiancee’s family. If you’re unaware, most son’s get very uncomfortable when their mother’s cry. I quickly assured him that I was fine. I knew he understood when he said… “I know, you’re just having a moment.”
It’s Christmas eve and I’m alone. No rush to wrap presents. No one’s yelling, where’s the Scotch tape. No angst about the one item missing from the grocery list. In fact, I had a frozen pizza for dinner (don’t judge me). No butterflies or excitement surrounding opening presents early the next morning. There’s just silence. If the restaurant I wandered into for lunch had a QR code to order instead of a paper menu I may not have even heard my own voice today.
If it sounds like I’m having a pity party, I’m not. I’m honoring an uncomfortable liminal space. Mourning what’s gone while sitting in the uncomfortable space of not knowing what’s to come. I can imagine people thinking, that’s so sad or even worse she’s so sad. But I don’t want it to be. It’s uncomfortable, yes. Our society has no “happy story” written for someone who spends Christmas alone. But it’s my life and I want to embrace it.
Many milestones are noted in the measurement of time.
A decade ago on Christmas, my husband died peacefully at home surrounded by his family. The next year I decided it would be too sad to recreate our Burl Ives Christmas. I set out to create new traditions. Our family rented homes in exotic places to celebrate. Christmas in Barcelona? Why not. We packed suitcases full of wrapped presents and gathered in Ireland, NYC, and Washington D.C. If I’m completely honest, at times it was exhausting. Over the past decade I’ve frantically tried to prove that life goes on. Me learning to navigate this holiday alone is beautiful proof that it does.
My children are wonderful healthy adults now. They’ve each found someone to make a home with and it’s time for them to start their own rituals. So, a new tradition begins. This year is their chance to spend Christmas with their significant other’s family. Next year it will be my turn. When it became obvious that Mom was going to be all by herself, there was lots of wrangling. “Who’s going to get mom”. I honestly don’t want to be “got”. My sisters lovingly invited me to join their Christmas traditions. But I need to start my own traditions and for now that means being alone on Christmas.
The past decade was spent trying to keep things normal. The next decade might be about grace. I love Anne Lamott’s definition of grace — ‘I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.’ Maybe the next year I’m alone for Christmas, Grace might find me alone on a beach, with a good book and a margarita.
Happy holidays!
