I was taken aback on Christmas morning when, sitting on the living room floor wrapping presents, I started to cry. They were strange tears and I struggled to really identify what happened to cause them. But there they were, and they kept falling all morning. I was late getting going. I didn’t even get to go for my planned Christmas hike. This was the new tradition that I had hoped to start for myself, something that was mine, but captured the feeling of Christmas that I had grown to love with X.
We used to spend the day together. Being in Alaska, we had no family events we needed to go to. So we made breakfast, did presents, and when it was finally light outside, we’d go for a nice long walk. We didn’t have the TV on. It was music and twinkle lights and a goofy dog who LOVED opening presents.
Christmas morning, I actually missed that. A lot. I missed the calm and the closeness. I missed the laughter. I missed my dog. I even missed X, which is not a feeling I have. (It actually made me really uncomfortable to miss him.) I just longed for the old days. Even though I really don’t. Even though most days I like where my life is going and who I am becoming, this day was hard. Harder than I expected.
I don’t know that it’s a setback, per se. I think it’s probably normal and even a sign that I am healing. It seems natural to miss something lost, to long for a life I thought was special. But I was blue. I had to push myself through presents with my family. Through dinner and the noise and the chaos. All joyful. All wonderful, and yet all different from what Christmas had become for me. The change was really hard.
The good news is that it has had me thinking about what it is I want from Christmas day. What does it mean and what can I do to make it work for me? I know I like the calm. I like the feeling of the world stopped, or at least paused. I like the TV off, the music soft. I like the walk into the quiet world. I like the joy of dogs. And a good, special breakfast.
I’m feeling better today, ready to step back into my journey of moving forward and building my life. And I know I can have a hand in defining what I want for Christmas next year.