It's been another long year of ups and downs, triumphs, setbacks, and trying to give glory to God amidst it all.
This year was so much like the past few years, in that we found ourselves showered with love and blessings in many shapes and forms, from hugs, to being welcomed into homes, to spending time with family and friends, to being given gifts without any expectation.
We continued with the traditions we have been developing over the last four years. We made some gifts, we bought some gifts. We spent a Christmas weekend with my family back home. We dressed up (well, this year I wore jeggings and not a skirt which was a bit different than usual, but we were crunched for time) and went to the candlelight church service. This year, my children all sang "Silent Night" loudly, and I had the biggest grin on my face throughout the entire song.
We spent Christmas Eve with the children's aunt and uncle, having pizza and breadsticks and exchanging gifts. We all were given new Christmas pajamas to come home to, and I stayed up too late doing the last gift wrapping duties.
There was one gift for each child wrapped in brown paper, blessings from "Santa," just like years past, because I've wanted the kids to know each year that there are so many people out there who love them deeply and want to bless them with items that they chose especially for each of them, that we don't "need" much from Santa so I've asked him to be simple. The brown paper is to help take the focus and glamor off of Santa and more on the abundance of blessings and love from others. (In no way is that supposed to be condescending to anyone else and how they approach the Santa issue, that's just how I've decided to do it.) And when it's all said and done, their aunt plays the role of Santa anyway.
The children let me stay in bed until I was light outside, then we took a few photos, and had our gift opening marathon. We spent the afternoon at our dear family friends' home, enjoying homemade Mexican food, conversation, laughter, and gifts. We came home to unwind, and here I sit, reflecting. Some things are better left unchanged.
But, this Christmas was different in some ways too.
For example, this year, as years past, I set it in my mind that I should probably grab a couple small gifts for myself to wrap up and stick underneath our tree. However, this year, I took my daughter, who is now four (and a half, mind you), along the day I happened to find a small item I thought "they" would like to give me. I decided to run the idea by her, which resulted in a strong counterargument.
"But, Momma, we didn't get it for you. We didn't go shopping. We didn't buy it."
"I know, but I can wrap it up and pretend that you did. I will act surprised, for your brothers..."
"But I will know that you got it and that we didn't."
Good grief. This is the same little girl who used the exact same argument for her fourth birthday, where she chose her own gifts, we locked them in the back of the van, and she had to wait two weeks to open them. "I'll act surprised so my brothers don't know," was her exact argument.
Well, I bought the cup anyway. And before all the commotion started, I enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee on the floor by the tree this morning. This year, we've past that era.
This year, as in years past, there was one big expensive item that was requested. It was actually the same item that my oldest son requested last year, but he never received. This year, his siblings knew what it was and joined in on thinking it would be a good item to have.
In past years, if there was something that was out of my budget, they either wouldn't receive it, or it might come from someone outside our apartment walls. While I have always been grateful from the depths of my core for generosity and kindness, as humbling and overwhelming as it is to accept sometimes, there's always been this small sliver of sadness inside of me that I couldn't always provide their most expensive, popular culture type items myself. I always knew it wasn't failure on my part, because I've been working full time and trying hard for years now, but still, I often wished I could just do everything on my own.
This year, out of unexpected urging from a friend, I started baking macarons for other people. In an absolutely surprising request, I was able to bake a few hundred macarons, which helped me with bills, also was the provision for the item my children had wanted that I never imagined I would be able to give them.
This evening, after all the hustle and bustle was done, I revealed that the one gift on the couch labeled for me was really for all of us, and the joy in my oldest son's face after I explained that I had worked very hard to get this gift for them, and that was how much I loved them, showed me that it was a choice worth making. They knew I had been working hard at all that baking for other people, and he knew how expensive the gift was. It was then that he realized what I was saying, and he ran across the room to hug me, and hug me, and hug me. He had tears when he finally backed away.
This year, that was different and it was a huge milestone and accomplishment for me, and the meaning behind it was perfectly timed for my oldest son especially. I believe it's a Christmas he will always remember.
This year, you see, he and I have been struggling a while. He's eight now, and his intelligence and language are great enough that he is becoming more adept at expressing his feelings verbally. But, for the past few months, he just... hadn't been. He had been quiet and quite speechless most of the time, especially for me. Recently, we had a breakthrough, and those language skills came to the surface, where he admitted his deep heartache and sorrow at the continued absence of his father.
I know, it's still about that. I've received a few comments in the past about so much of our lives and our story being about that. And, truthfully, it is going to be about that quite a bit of the time until there is some sort of resolve or healing (or both) for my children. We pray it through as we wait.
Anyway, this year... he admitted that he's angry with me. He's angry with me for divorcing his dad. We have had lengthy discussions about it since he expressed himself, and it has made me realize that's why he doesn't speak to me much and is so withdrawn sometimes.
But, the great news is that because it is in the open, this year, we are going to be able to work through it, and he can join me on the healing side of the path.
But on that topic, this year... this year I didn't even miss their dad on Christmas morning. I feel so conflicted saying that, but it is the truth. Most Christmas mornings, I wish he was here to see the joy and hear the laughter in the room around us. This year, I didn't even think about him until this evening at bedtime, when we said bedtime prayers, and I realized that in my blissful ignorance, my children had probably missed him silently all day long.
This year, I forgot to make a birthday cake or cupcakes for Jesus like we have the past few years. My children forgot, too, so I'm in the clear. Hopefully, next year, we will remember.
This year was a good Christmas, just like the years past.
It was just a little different this year.
