It's Not the Same
The holiday season is here.
All the radio stations are playing Christmas tunes, the stores are packed with people on the search for the perfect gift, and there are tons of holiday parties, events, and commitments packing your schedule.
I love this time of year, but this year is different. It’s not quite the same as it’s been in the past.
2019 has been a challenging year in many ways. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually. There have been really high highs and really low lows.
One of those lowest lows is the loss of my grandmother, Mom Mom. As the matriarch of the family, Mom Mom loved Christmas and made it so special for us all. For years, the day after Christmas, December 26, was dedicated to spending the day at Mom Mom and Pop Pop’s house. Our family and my uncle and aunt and cousins would drive up to Mom Mom and Pop Pop’s for a day of Christmas cheer.
Breakfast, stockings, a cousin talent show, gifts, and the “surprise gift” were all part of the fun. This tradition has been a Christmas staple since I can remember.
When Mom Mom got sick, it was the first time I truly realized that these traditions wouldn’t last forever. There was this nostalgic wonder surrounding Christmas and its traditions, and I never allowed myself to think of anything different. I’ve never been one to enjoy change — change usually makes me feel extremely uncomfortable and anxious — and so I typically avoid thinking of “what ifs” until it’s in the here and now.
Mom Mom went to Heaven in August. Christmas was one of the first things I thought about in those days after.
A typically joyful time of year now had this shadow of pain and grief cast upon it. It wouldn’t be the same this year, and it won’t be the same ever again.
In this time of year, it’s easy to forget that hurt, grief, and pain still exist. Marketing pushes it aside to focus on happy times, and yes, it is a joyful time of year. Jesus was born!
But the pain and the grief are still there. And they shouldn’t be forgotten.
It won’t go away, and time doesn’t heal. This year I choose to remember Mom Mom and the memories we made.
For example, Cardinals are something that remind me of Mom Mom. We both loved cardinals and thought they were beautiful, especially when found on a snowy day. Whether consciously or subconsciously, I’ve noticed a lot of cardinals this year. Not just the physical birds, but also in wrapping paper, on Christmas cards, and in marketing materials. Cardinals are everywhere, and I’m thankful for that.
Mom Mom also loved taking her time to unwrap gifts. She made everyone feel special for the gifts we gave her. She treated a bar of soap the same way she treated a framed photo. She loved every gift. She loved the person who gave it to her and she loved the thought behind it, no matter what “it” was. This Christmas, I yearn to be more intentional.
If I tried to describe every memory I have of Mom Mom, especially those that have to do with Christmas, I’d be writing a book. The thing is, Christmas won’t be the same without her here. Although I know she’s no longer in pain, I miss her here. I miss Christmases past. I’m thankful for the memories and for the traditions we still will have in place this year. It will be different, but it will always include Mom Mom.
Her legacy continues and the traditions she established will not fade away. If you’re also grieving the loss of someone this Christmas, know that you are not alone. I am praying for you as we journey together through this holiday season and cling to the Hope that Jesus was born and we’ll one day be reunited. No more pain, no more sorrow or grief. The day is coming, and for that I am thankful.