Christmas Blues

Sorry for the lack of posting lately, it's been crazy. That is if anyone noticed that I have been negligent. The following is a repost of a piece I wrote the year after I lost my father.

Sunday, December 05, 1999


The morning greeted me bright and early that day, it seemed funny to be up and on the computer at 5:30am on a Saturday, a day I usually sleep late. This will be good though I told myself, I will have more time to do all the things that I want to accomplish today.

A productive day was just a notion, never realized on that Saturday. By 11:00 am I was back in bed trying to rid myself of a terrible tension headache. One that had grabbed the back of my head with a vice like hold growing stronger and stronger with no hint of stopping. Sleep dulled the pain but when I awoke four hours later it returned regenerated and more powerful than before.

I walked down the hall and looked at the transformed living room. Mom and Melissa had worked hard all afternoon, while I slept and our living room was now full of Christmas. Melissa was sitting in front of the computer, downloading some music and when I asked where Nana was, she pulled herself out of her concentration just long enough to tell me that they had gone for a walk.

Suddenly I felt a strong desire to catch up to Mom and Sammy and get some fresh air. I quickly changed into some comfortable clothes before I could change my mind and told Melissa that I would be back shortly.

I stepped through the front door and stopped amazed at the display of lights from all the houses across the street. It seemed as if everyone agreed that they would turn their lights on tonight. I walked a few steps down the sidewalk so I could see the whole street and stood for quite awhile taking it all in.

Turning back to look at our house I realized that it looked just as beautiful as the others. My Mom had worked very hard the past the past week or so on decorating the outside. While looking at the front window I drifted back to my youth. Excitement and awe of wonderful, magical things pulsing through me as I pushed through the crowd standing in front of Simpson's and Eaton's. I would work my way through the crowd, to the front so that I could stand and stare at the wonderful displays that they did each year in celebration of Christmas.

Continuing on, to the end of the driveway, I stopped once again to search the road for two figures. One of adult size and one with a leash clicked on his neck.

Nothing.

‘I need a walk.’ I spoke to myself harshly before I turned and walked back inside. Fresh air WAS needed in the worst way, either in the company of Mom and Sammy or alone. I decided to turn to my left and walk around the block, past my grandparent's house, knowing that this is the way Mom and Sammy had gone. This is the way they always go. ‘They walk slowly. I should be able to catch up to them. I need to tell Mom how I am feeling right now, so that she understands that I am not trying to be miserable because it’s Christmas.’

Walking slowly around the corner, drinking in the beauty of the lovely decorating of my neighbours, I almost forgot that I was feeling sad and lonely. A smile had pulled my lips up at the corners without me noticing.
At least not right away! Slowly I floated along the street; unaware of anyone or anything. The Christmas lights mesmerizing me, casting their spell to dull my brain and stop almost all thoughts. Almost!

Someone was approaching me from the far end of the block. They were walking a large dog and it appeared from the outline of the shape that it was a man. He crossed to the other side of the street as we grew closer and the black dog pulled eagerly towards me, mouth open, tongue lagging out the side in a silly little grin. I could feel that he was a friendly dog. Before I knew what I was doing, I was calling a greeting across the road to them.

"Beautiful, isn’t it? Gorgeous night, beautiful lights, aren’t we lucky?"
He was about 65 years old, maybe a year or two younger but I was pretty sure that this gentleman was around retirement age.

"It sure is, now if we could just get a little bit of snow it would look even more beautiful!" His voice was full of warmth and laughter and it was very comforting.

I giggled in agreement with him as we passed; our solitary walks interrupted for a brief moment with neighbourly pleasantries, now to continue alone and quiet once again.

The moment he and his dog passed, I was hit with a terrible longing for my father. This time I couldn’t push it away. My mind filled with the vision of his smiling face and my heart suddenly felt very empty. I miss him very, very much and I cannot understand why he is not with us anymore.

As I walked alone, the Christmas lights became a colourful blur as I finally surrendered to my sadness and let the tears fall freely from my eyes. It was a relief to let it go. I wondered if anyone was watching me, if they could see me walking down the middle of the road, alone and crying at Christmas time. What was my Dad thinking as he looked down on me? I know that he would be very frustrated with me, not wanting me to miss him so much, only wanting me to be happy. I could almost hear his exasperated voice telling me to smarten up! Be strong! What’s wrong with you, Shelly? Why do you do this to yourself?

Shrugging I said ‘I don’t know’, not out loud but to myself, where I knew he could hear me. The sound of his voice, frustrated as all hell made me smile just like it always did. Dad and I could banter back and forth with the best of them. To outsiders we were arguing, to us we were having some fun. A battle of stubbornness; who could be stronger; who would be the one to ultimately wear the other one down, but it was full of love. We knew it and it always ended up with the two of us killing ourselves laughing at each other as we would both give in at the same time. Both winners and losers in our battle!

My tears started to slow and the street-scape was becoming clearer as I rounded the last corner and found myself on my own block. The prettiest one in the whole subdivision, I told myself. Just like I do every night when I drive home from work and turn the corner to see Brouwer Crescent, lit from one end to the other with Christmas lights.

I concentrated on the efforts that my neighbours went to while decorating for the season, instead of sad thoughts and it was working. My spirit was lifting again and then at that moment I finally saw the outline of Mom and Sammy down the street, walking slowly. My Mother’s laughter floated down to where I was and I realized that she was not alone, she was talking to someone else, a neighbour perhaps. I quickened my pace so that I could catch up to them before they went inside. I wanted to stand with my Mother out on the street, talk with the neighbours and feel alive.

It is Christmas after all, a time for us to be happy and thankful for the sacrifices that the Lord Jesus made for us. Instead of feeling sad for the people I miss, I should be happy for the love I have shared and felt. That is the greatest gift of all and no one can ever take that away.