Normally, I keep my soul angst to myself, and at most, share with my sister or a trusted friend, but there is a voice inside telling me I need to allow my meandering spirit to share the sadness I'm feeling this Christmas season. I don't know why...but maybe I'm finally old enough and wise enough to just allow this voice to lead me.
For some reason, I'm just really missing my mom this Christmas. Going into the season, I was feeling an emptiness that I didn't understand and can't explain. I wanted to put off getting a tree and then once we got it, wanted to wait to bring it in, and once we brought it in, wanted to wait a little while before we decorated it. Once we started to decorate it, wanted to stretch it out as long as it made some kind of sense to do so. Throughout the decorating stage, I listened to Christmas music from the seasonal music channel and so much of it was from the 40's and 50's...Perry Como, Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, etc....which, of course reminded me even more of my mom. She loved Christmas music and that's one of the many things she passed along to me.
But...I listen to this music every year..why is this year different? No answer. My mom was a very quiet person...in a beautiful sort of way. She loved Christmas, but it was never about the gifts with her...it was the music and the love of being with the family she loved with every fiber of her being. She made cookies and cakes and she decorated the house, not in the way any professional would approve, but we loved it. We always had a big tree and the decorations were a combination of the things we, kids, had made in school and some glass bulbs and angels and lights, multi colored, and a star on top and ice cycles everywhere...carefully placed on each branch. It was always a magical tree. Once we were grown, my mom and dad switched to an artificial tree, but although it wasn't quite the same...the magic was still there. Of course!
The mantle was decorated with candles and little elves and there was always a poinsettia somewhere. Nothing extravagant or fancy...just a regular middle-class home decorated with a mother's love.
Extravagance didn't come under the tree either. There were 5 kids and my dad's salary only went so far. There was also a much beloved family member who sometimes needed a little extra Santa help and my mom and dad were always there to share whatever they could. But, to my memory, we were happy with what we got and if one of us felt deprived, I never heard about it. And, no one ever said anything about the halloween candy that mysteriously appeared in the stockings that hung on the mantle.
My mom loved Christmas and she taught us that it was more about what was in the heart than what was under the tree. What a beautiful gift that was. What a beautiful gift she was.
So, I can't say I've answered my question about why the loss of mom is more painful this year, but I can say that, in a sense, I feel thankful for the pain because it makes me remember all the more about the Christmases that we Wilkinson's had. And, I feel the love that mom had for all of us as she went about filling our home with the wonderful scents of cookies and cakes and the magical Christmas tree and the soft and gentle sounds of Christmas songs playing on the stereo. Most of all, she filled our home with her love...and that is something that never leaves any of us. We carry it with us forever. Thank you, Mom.
So now that I've written this all out, I think I understand a little more....definitely, I get why I made so many more cookies than I've made since my children were home. Looks like my mom is hanging out with me this Christmas and I'm just going to enjoy her company and maybe just go make some more cookies. And, somewhere there must be an elf to hang on the little make believe fireplace we have. Oh, and I have to pull out the Perry Como Christmas CD. Christmas ain't really Christmas without Mr. Como, right?
But, most of all....I need to go get the green glass bulb that was on every Christmas tree since I was 5 years old. It's tiny and fragile and has faded stars on it. This Christmas I didn't hang it because I thought it would just make me even more sad. I know better now. It will be like putting my mom's love right where it belongs.
So...my spirit has meandered back to a calmer and gentler place. Thank you for listening. I hope your holidays are filled with love and beautiful memories, and if you're carrying extra sadness this year, I wish you peace and hope for the new year. Merry Everything, y'all.
