Visions of Sugarplums

All of a sudden Christmastime was here, then as quickly as it came it was gone. We spent a day, got the trees out of the attic, put the train out in the front yard to light up, the wreath on the door and the bow on the mailbox. A week I spent on the Christmas cards, addressing, stamping, writing notes and sent them out. About halfway through the season, I wondered why it felt as if I was just going through the motions? Why did I feel separate from all the "joy" of this Christ filled season?

This thought continued to cross my mind through the days and weeks of the holidays. While watching my two young boys, 6 and 3, enjoy all there was to take in about the holidays, I felt as if I was just doing tasks to check off a list, keeping a safe distance from the reality. But what reality? Upper middle class family, two cars, a cat a nice house, two healthy happy boys, what reality was there to be avoiding? It was a familiar feeling, a feeling which I suddenly realized I have had before and it always seemed to be in the winter.

On Christmas Eve I had stayed home all day with the boys. We had planned to go to the Christmas Eve service at the church, then out to eat for supper. The boys were a handful that day. They were bouncing of the walls with excitement for the next morning. I was trying to clean, cook, get presents ready and handle them. And as usual, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. I was losing my mind with stress that day. At the restaurant Ryan said "you seem really down today, you okay?" I wasn't. It clicked. I wasn't.

In my mind was 10 again. I was living in our junked up, dark single wide trailer with my Mom, Dad and my younger sister. My sister and I were sharing a room as we did until I was 16. It was drafty in that trailer, and smoke filled. On Christmas morning we awoke excited as anyone for Santa to come. I can remember struggling to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. I would think of all the things that were possible on Christmas Day, it was like magic waiting to happen. I would pray to wake up to a different life. One of abundance, instead of sparsity. One of hope instead of dispair. One of joy instead of saddness. One of cleanliness, lots of food, where I could fit in and have lots of clothes to wear to school... But every Christmas I would wake up to the same thing as the day before, but with a stocking with some oranges, apples and walnuts in it and most Christmas' my parents managed to get some things under the tree from Santa. One year it was boxes of I O U's. I cried.

Other than being too overwhelmed, my boys haven't cried, especially out of this deep need I felt. That in itself is a part of the reason I believe I have boys. To heal. And to provide a smile or two on Christmas morning, that's healing.