The First Christmas

 The first Christmas "since" is all wrapped up. It has been a very long and busy week. There have been highs and lows. It seems kind of strange when I think back on the week that the highs and lows took place at the same events in the same time space. 

The Family Christmas Program at our church was held on Sunday, December 17th. It was wonderful to fill the bags that would hold peanuts, apples, oranges, and way too much candy to be passed out to the kids of all ages following the service. It was delightful to celebrate the birth of our Savior with our church family. We were gifted with being able to see great folks who used to attend our church many years ago. We were blessed with being able to give and receive hugs and the Lord showed His love to us through the generosity of the gifts the people of the church blessed us with. We heard beautiful readings, songs, a children's story, and testimonies of God's goodness and faithfulness. We laughed, we cried, and had chocolate available. Does it get better than that? It does! Another bonus was that our grandson Theodore was able to be there with us. But it was sad to visualize Christmas programs in that church where Brendan performed on that stage. It was joyful and sad for me to see the families there celebrating our Savior's birth and clearly being happy being together. I love seeing families together and consider it a privilege to be able to glimpse the love and familiarity they have with one another. But it made my heart hurt when I could not help but think that the time with my son is over. 

The first Blue Christmas Service our church held was on Wednesday, December 20th. I enjoyed prepping memorial ornaments for those who would attend the service. Theo "helped" me do that. I also dreaded prepping the memorial ornament that would be filled with Brendan's picture. That ornament has a picture of Brendan's head in it. You know, the ornaments aren't very big and well, his head kind of is. One of my girls told me it looks creepy. I guess it kind of does - it's like the opposite of the headless horseman. I'm pretty confident Brendan would have some interesting comments about it. He wouldn't be as kind as his sister. I don't care - it will continue to have a place of honor on the family Christmas tree. We got to talk about our loved ones and had sweet fellowship as we sat with others who worked on ornaments for their loved ones that have passed on.

The Christmas Eve Service Sunday morning was lovely. We sang traditional Christmas carols, heard an amazing message, and listened to special music provided by my hubby. We hugged the necks of so many people who are very precious to us. We received an unexpected heartfelt note and generous gift from a family we love. But earlier that morning as I was preparing to get in the shower, the dogs started barking like maniacs, as dogs sometimes do, and my heart leapt with excitement as the thought that maybe they were barking because Brendan just unexpectedly showed up to surprise me for Christmas as he was known to do. Then I remembered. Remembered is really the wrong word. I can't help but remember, but there are these weird instances where my heart is not in sync with what my mind knows to be true. My heart longs for Brendan even though my mind knows beyond a shadow of any doubt that Brendan cannot show up as a Christmas surprise for me ever again. The odds are zero. It's not even possible. Those split seconds where my heart dictates my thoughts and hopes brings such delight but it is immediately followed by hopelessness and pain. 

Christmas Eve afternoon we had the ginormous pleasure and blessing of having our girls, the husband, the kids, and the boyfriend over. I care deeply for each of these special people and thoroughly enjoyed our time together. We played a new game - Ransom Notes. We laughed at the creative responses of our group and I quietly grieved as I thought about how amazing Brendan would have been at the game. Every now and then I would see his smile flash in my mind and hear his laugh. I would feel my heart squeeze when I recalled many, many game sessions around the dining room table over the years. Brendan was hilarious and kept us all laughing. He also stressed me out a bit as there was no way to tell what that kid was going to say. :-) You know that expression, "know your audience"? Well, Brendan was no respector of one audience from another. He would normally speak his mind regardless if the audience was conservative or liberal, political or not,  and it made no difference to him if they were smart or the opposite of smart. He just believed that funny was funny and you should never pass up an opportunity. My attempts at teaching him to be sensitive to the audience fell on deaf ears - either that or he just didn't agree with me and chose to do his own thing (this is the most likely scenario). He was painfully truthful sometimes. Like the time he told me he had a friend who he had to talk to like he talked to me. I believe his exact words were, "You know, mom, it's like how I have to dumb things down when explaining something to you." Or when he made it clear that my choice to discontinue my anxiety medication was not a happy choice for the family. :-) We all need those truth tellers in our lives. (I did go back on my medicine and all those in my circle benefited). I miss him. 

I noticed that there were still a few sweet pickles left after everyone went home. Had Brendan been here that would NOT have been the case. He was a sweet gherkin maniac. The whole pumpkin pie would have been devoured and if I had been able to bring myself to make gingersnap cookies he would have put a huge dent in them as well. He would have probably complained about the menu as he really loved a traditional Christmas dinner. He would have wanted the ham, the creamy potatoes, the dessert-like sweet potatoes, the stuffing, crescent rolls and succulent turkey. Instead, we had two kinds of soup, sandwiches, veggie tray, fruit tray, and store-bought desserts. My energy level is still pretty much in the crapper. I am thankful my family was kind about being okay with diverting from what we've always done in the past.

Of course, we opened presents too. Sooooo much fun to see Theo's excitement. My heart was full as everyone opened their gifts and seemed to really like them. Seeing my husband hold our sweet granddaughter and watch him play with Theo was priceless. But when the quiet moments happened I could see the pain in Jim's eyes as he was reminded again that our boy is gone. I saw deep sadness in the eyes of Brendan's sisters as they were also remembering and missing their brother. As for myself, I made it my goal to try my best to focus on what was right there in front of me instead of the giant elephant in the room - Brendan's absence. 

Today is Christmas Day - December 25, 2023, and it seems appropriate to reflect. Now my eyes are filled with tears and they are working their way down my cheeks. I am so very sad. I cannot believe I had 30 Christmases with Brendan and I will have no more. I realize there are people out there who have not even been blessed with 30 Christmases with their loved one(s) and I am so sorry for them, but feeling gratitude that I had Brendan for 30 Christmases does not take away the feelings of despair that there will never be another. When it was time to hug necks as people were preparing to depart, I had such a craving to feel Brendan's arms around me. I wanted to look into his eyes and touch his face. I wanted to give him a kiss on his cheek, tell him I loved him, and hear him say, "I love you, momma." I'm crying hard now. How does a momma's heart heal when the one thing it needs to heal it can never have? 

I also missed hearing him tease his sisters. I used to fuss at him and tell him to be nicer, but secretly I loved listening to the banter between all of them. I knew that teasing them was one way he showed his love. Brendan wouldn't take time to think up wise cracks and tease you mercilessly if he didn't love you. I take heart in that because I was often the target of his teasing. To be fair, I did set myself up a lot. Of course, I wouldn't realize I had done that until after the witty response came rocketing out of his mouth.

I just miss him. Holidays, special dates, and annual family events will never be the same. Life will go on, I know. It just doesn't seem like it should. My heart feels like it is wrong and unkind that the sun keeps rising and setting. The world continues as if my heart hasn't been shattered. It seems so unfair. But at the very same time I think that I also don't want to get stuck in this phase. The only way to find my new, manageable normal is for time to keep marching on. Fall needs to turn to winter, winter needs to cease to allow spring and new life to come, spring will then usher in long summer days, and fall will return. There is beauty in each season. If that's true, and it is, there must also be beauty in this season - the current winter I am experiencing. Not the winter season - but the winter in my heart and soul. My soul feels cold and barren. I wonder if this is how the trees feel when they lose their leaves and have less protection from the wind and storms. I have already had a hint of the spring to come - Elena Brielle. She is a new bud in our family tree. Brendan's petals have closed up and fallen away. Elena's petals are just beginning to open - we can barely see the color on the inside of those fragile petals, but what we can see is bright and stunning. 

I will carry Brendan in my heart the way I have dried out beautiful roses for a keepsake. He has not ceased to exist - he has just left my presence for the time being. I am so incredibly thankful to have seen his petals open and bloom. I just wasn't prepared for the season to end.