The Holidays Are Hard

Weeping may remain for the night, but joy comes with the morning. Our prayer is that the words of the Psalmist are true for you this Christmas season. We know very intimately that sometimes one must fight for joy, it seems like this is especially true around the holidays. Not all of us have the gift of silent nights (ours are peppered with Ollie’s seizures) or chestnuts roasting on an open fire (children who are developmentally delayed rarely do well with open flames), but what we do have is real hope and real promises.

One of the hardest parts of the holidays for me is the grieving. I expect if you’ve lost someone you love or watched a dream die you also feel this sadness. Perhaps you longed to be a mother and feel the joy of giving life to another. Maybe you lost your mother recently and would give anything to hear her voice on the line. Perhaps you are single and wish for nothing more than a spouse to kiss your forehead and whisper “Merry Christmas”. Maybe you’d like to wake up without chronic pain...just for this one morning. We all have weeping in the night...

If you are anything like me you’ve been watching these adorable families in matching PJs and coordinated needle point stockings hung on a mantle. This is dangerous. Maybe you are more mature and have not felt jealous of their perceived holiday experience of perfection?  Meanwhile, I have a nativity with a sheep that has been cracked into two distinct pieces, a donkey without an ear on the right side and a missing baby Jesus. You know, it kind of defeats the purpose of having a nativity if it doesn't have Jesus. We keep thinking he’ll show up in a toy box or under the couch. The irony isn’t lost on me...you see, Jesus has a way of showing up in all kinds of surprising places. Jesus doesn’t fit into boxes all that well anyway. In addition to my nativity problems, I have two tiny fake Christmas trees on an armoire 5 feet in the air to keep a big boy with very little impulse control away. I have a fire, but it doesn’t keep us warm, it can be found on the Netflix program called “Fireplace For Your Home.” I did actually search for matching Christmas jammies that would fit my handsome, 6’4” tall hubby with thighs the size of tree trunks... #epicfail. My guess is you have similar stories of modifying the holiday you envisioned for something real and actually enjoyable.

The real truth is that Oliver is the same joyful and happy boy he has always been, but I wouldn't be real if I didn’t mention how hard it has been on us that Oliver has totally lost his ability to speak and communicating is painfully limited to 3 or 4 signs and infrequent vocalizations. Andrew and I frequently dream of Oliver speaking and wake up to find it was a cruel trick. As we live through year five of seizures, meds, diaper changes, medical travel, etc., it would be real to say it is messy and we still grieve.

I’ve mostly made peace with mismatched pajamas, a nativity that looks like it lived through a vicious attack, and a fire that is only on TV. This year I decided I’m going to be honest with myself and everyone else...the holidays are just plain hard. I am training my eyes and heart to look for things unfiltered...hunting for what is real. Real love, real joy, real comfort, real hope, real friendships, real messy, real timeless. Join me?

Christmas Card Pic circa 2012