What is it about the holidays that bring so much expectation? What is it about the holidays that brings sorrow? For me, the holidays bring memories…some sweet and some very painful. There are the memories of those no longer in my life, Christmas past, memories of my little girl and boy in warm feet pajamas and blankie running to the Christmas tree, excitement and delight with each gift opened… then to my lap for cuddling.
As my adult children slept here under the same roof for the first time in a couple of years I experienced the peace and sense that all is right in my world. Yet Christmas morning as I fussed in the kitchen and they started packing up to head home, the tears began to fall. I cried in front of my children…weeping for a time long gone. The time when I could fix their boo-boo’s with a kiss, wipe their tears and bring a smile to their sad little faces. The time when I knew they were safe every night, because I could hear them breathing in the next room, healthy meals and snacks I prepared daily filled their bellies.
Living so far away makes the reality and finality of those times more tangible. I love every moment of motherhood…then and now. Our friendship is rich with survival, growth, triumphs and failures, both theirs and mine. I loved those little bodies on my lap, reading bedtime stories and tying shoes. I loved what I saw in the little girl and the little boy…and love what I see now. I am proud of the wonderful adults they are….and I look forward to many holidays…to reflect on what was…and with great joy experience what is.
