I am not sure why, but this year the Christmas Spirit has eluded me. It was not for lack of trying I can assure you. Weekly lesson's on the birth of Christ for my children, strains of Christmas music filled my home continually, a family was adopted for Christmas, the yearly cookie and candy making was done. Angels, nutcrackers, santa's, and various nativities adorned my home. We took the traditional drive down Christmas tree lane and "oohed and awed" over the beautiful light displays. I went to every child's Christmas program. Lots of hot chocolate with marshmallows was consumed over wonderful holiday stories. We watched every holiday movie I own... but still I felt empty and I felt sad. I wanted so badly to give my children a wonderful holiday filled with all the warmth and happiness remembered from my youth, but I felt that despite all my efforts I was failing them.
December 22 came and I still had not found that elusive feeling I was searching for. That night at work a woman came in, she was 20 weeks and 1 day. She was visiting relatives from Texas. She had spontaneously ruptured, was contracting, and her cervix was opening. She was septic and needed that baby out or she would die. Sadly the baby needed to stay in or it would die. I watched that little baby, only a week older than the small life growing inside me, die slowly on the monitor. It's little heart rate slowly dropping from 160 to 120 to a meager 60 bpm. I have delivered babies that were already dead, but this was the first baby that I actually had to watch die and there was nothing I could do about it.
At home my fitful sleep was intermingled with dreams of a tiny baby boy gasping for life and a grieving mother who held her dead child with all the tenderness she would have showered on a live child.
I thought about children and I thought about mothers. I thought about Christ and I thought about Mary. The morning of the 24th dawned. There were still so many things to be done. I had planned our yearly caroling outing to the assisted living centers as well as to our relatives that live nearby the kids look forward to that all year, but I didn't have everything done. I decided to forgo the push and the stress and just stay home. My well made plans were thrown to the wind and I settled in doing the small mundane things that make me feel more sane at home. I started washing down my walls and cupboards, swept the floor, and pulled out the mop. One by one my little children came to me to ask me what they could do to help. I handed out little tasks and watched them as they joyfully worked by my side. Several hours past, Kinsey and I went to her bedroom to sort out some laundry that she would need for the next few days. As we sifted through the mounds of dirty girl clothes Kinsey looked up at me and with all the sincerity of a five year old said "Mom, this is the best day ever."
Needless to say I was shocked, and I realized that as good as the things I was trying to give my kids were, what they really want is my time and my love. While I still didn't have the nostalgic feeling I was looking for I had found another perhaps more meaningful feeling. While I don't think I will stop searching for the Christmas spirit I think I will not be so quick to decide in what form that it comes in. The best day ever...
The New Chapter of Life
5 years ago
