I've been planning on posting this post again for quite a long time. Anyone who knows me really well knows that Christmas is NOT my favorite holiday. Since I was about 11 it's not been a favorite. There are many different reasons why. What is written below is only one of them.
I waited to post this, because most people either ARE or TRY to be really positive throughout the Christmas season--"Cherry"--I suppose.
Christmas Day this year was yet another reminder of what "isn't"---of how I never thought "it would ever be". I hate that---truly. I can say that since making the firm decision and knowing firmly that the Lord wanted me to seek out an orphan from the other side of the world--I have yet again found the "hope" people speak of during Christmas.
But--until I have "one of my own"--Christmas day is just a reminder of what "isn't"--not what "is". People who try to be "loving" love to remind people like me to "just have faith" and all other types of blah---even to the point of threatening that if "you just had testimony enough you would feel happy on Christmas". It's all a bunch of bunk. I have testimony. I know why we celebrate Christmas. But--I try to remember the purpose of Christmas all throughout the year--not just on or around Christmas. I can feel His Spirit everyday. Remember--He said He'd "lighten" our burdens--not completely take them away. So--on Christmas Day--sometimes it's all I can do to get "through it". I think anyone who is counting down the "last Christmases" of a precious loved one--not knowing how many more she/he have.....would probably feel the same.
P.S. My mother is now not surviving the same cancer my friend's mother died of. Ya--the thestrals continue....
This entry is not meant to be cherry. It won't be "Merry Christmas-sy". It won't be "paint a smile on your face" happy. Just a warning.
A dear, sweet friend of mine recently wrote an absolutely beautiful letter to her mother on her blog. Absolutely beautiful, considering her amazing mother, whom in the very few, short times I got to meet her as a teenager I experienced her amazing spirit, is no longer with us--because of the same disease my mother has survived. And in the Lord's most infinite wisdom, her mother left and crossed the veil right around this time of year. Leaving those behind both blessed, and dare I say, cursed for the rest of their lives.
A most amazing author wrote about a young boy. A young boy who had lost his parents at a year old. A young man who then lived with abusive and neglectful relatives until he entered a wizard's world. But, even in this wizard world, he was still an orphan. Then, he lost a friend--a friend he tried to help save. And, this amazing author wrote about he, and another classmate, who had entered, through the most daunting, blessed, and horrible experience, a special club. They joined a group that eventually, most of us join. Strangely, though---we don't all join at the same time, in the same way, and are also left with the option of denying ourselves from "looking".
The two characters she wrote about joined a small group of young people at their school who could see thestrals. These are strange, mythical creatures, who only can be seen by those who have seen death. Eventually, by the end of this book series, most every youth/young adult who stayed at the school would be able to see thestrals. But, early on, only a very few could.
The Lord, in His infinite wisdom, has blessed and cursed me with "early warnings" at times in my life. One, I realize now, came on my 12th birthday. Interestingly, I was telling this story once to my most wonderful hair stylist--who had experienced the same thing when she turned 12. Later, after her parents divorced, and her family experienced other major stressors, just a few short years later, she seemed to understand why (and interestingly, she did not have the same religious beliefs I did).
I sat, mid-way through that birthday, in my room, and sobbed. I sobbed because I was growing up--and seriously, it hurt. I loved my childhood. The Lord blessed me by keeping me joyously naive. My family was incredibly poor. I didn't know...or if I did, was blessed to not care. Although my mother was constantly stressed about money...I, for the most part, was happy to just play and live in "My world"--as my world was a great place. As much as life was not perfect....and as much as I still had sadness and so forth as a little kid--over all--I was quite happy!
And then, I had to turn 12. Some seem to grow up without much pain. My life did not work that way. By the next Christmas (13), I could see thestrals--although most people on the planet never knew that my family had experienced a loss. Life became more than painful. And I was left to choose. Choose to look at the thestrals, accept them--even embrace them. Or choose to run away, sit in denial, and pretend that grief is not real. Some in this life choose this--sometimes even leading to some of those social ills we often see and deal with, especially at this time of year. But, I had to choose.
Later, in college--the same semester that my roommate passed away, I took a Families in Crisis class. We had a special class, where we talked about grief, and how it affected families. My professor said something most wonderfully great. That grief is a physical illness. It has to be dealt with. It has to be worked through. It has to occur. But, we get to choose how to do it. We can deny it--and not look at the thestrals. Or, we can embrace them---find the blessings from knowing they're there--and accept that for the rest of our lives, we will see those thestrals. Or, we can run away.
Why--you may ask, am I discussing this? What a thing to talk about at Christmas? Who wants to think about death at such a time? Well, in my life, death and Christmas, since I was 13, have gone hand in hand. I honestly have come to embrace the reality that Christmas--and winter for that matter, usually sucks. And yet, just as in that amazing book series---the thestrals, in the end, help to save H a r r y and his friends. They become a part of life---and blessings come with them. So, at the same time that Christmas sucks, it also has joys, loves, and winter has lovely days that I look forward to.
Every major loss in my life, and there have been quite a few in my 31 years, have happened between October-February. Literally every one. From losing a sibling a week before Christmas, to my grandmother delivering her last personal Christmas gifts to every grandchild she could by August, before leaving in October of my senior year of high school. From my roommate leaving, crossing the veil weeks before Christmas, to both my grandfather's leaving weeks after Christmas--and within 4 weeks of each other. All of them have happened right around and surrounding Christmas. So much so, that there have been years (usually the first Christmas after the death) that I wished I could fly to Alaska and hide in a cabin until May! For some reason I assumed at 13, after the horrible Christmas that will never go away--when the thestrals appeared--when I was "shopping for shoes" in case my mother 'saw Jesus that night" as her life hung in the balance as well...that this would only occur once. No...I have since learned that the thestrals do not leave.
But, I have to admit, the hardest part about seeing the thestrals, is the exact problem that H a r r y had. Many--if not most--of his friends could not see them--yet. And I'm sure, a few of those who could see them, refused to look, cause somehow they thought it would just be easier to deny that they are there. To deny that life has it's major opposites....and that grief is a part of those opposites.
Why is this the hardest part? Because unless you're in the Seeing Thestrals club--and admit it---those whom can't or won't see them think you're weird. They pass judgement. Those whom drive past me when I'm sobbing at Christmas now, in my car, and don't understand, just probably think there's something wrong with me. It's like right after someone dies, how it feels like everyone expects you to be over it a week later. And that's just when you really begin to even deal with "it"--with grief.
Well, after reading my friend's dear letter--I've decided that perhaps what we need on this planet--at this time of year, especially, is an "I See Thestrals Christmas Club"--especially for those of us who experienced major loss right around Christmas, and refuse to deny our grief from occurring. Perhaps, we need people around us who understand why the same activities that bring smiles to most, can bring stinging tears to us. Why it is that when everyone else is joyfully singing carols, we're trying to just feel good enough to listen to them.
It's interesting because some years have been easier than others. But all Christmases I've experienced since thirteen have been painful in some way. Every one. I don't tell people this so they can feel sorry for me. I mean, honestly, part of me wants to go "dur" to those whom may even be surprised by this (I am single--the pain of loss when there was nothing to lose is especially painful, at times). But, I don't want people's pity--just as my sweet friend didn't want pity. No--mourning with those whom mourn does not mean that. What it means is understanding that you may not understand how I feel. What it means is recognizing that there are thestrals, and many of us who can see them--even if life has not brought them to you yet. That would especially be nice (remember how H a r r y felt when his friends looked at him like he was crazy cause he could see the thestrals and they couldn't?) It means not lecturing people about "seeking the Spirit of Christ" at Christmas....or trying to force people to be all Chrismassy. Mourning means sometimes Christmas just sucks--and what people need are others who know this, and care. It doesn't mean forcing hugs, but instead being brave enough to choose to face the realities--knowing that Christmas my suck, but thestrals bring blessings as well as pain.
Anyway...I'm babbling at this point. I've had so little sleep this week that it's amazing I can even put words together. But, I just wanted to share, at this time of year---that the real blessings of Christmas cannot be forced. They come wonderfully, and bitterfully, when we actually don't just believe, but truly know that Christ came to save us--because we've come to know the thestrals. We've come to know that it is only through His birth AND His death--that our loved one's will someday be resurrected--that the Lord keeps His promises, even if they don't happen in this life. This is the true reality of His birth and His death. Yes--celebrations are great--or they can be. But, I must say that no matter what traditions or celebrations occur or don't occur, grief and pain at Christmas are a part of the season as well. Some of my traditions that help with such pain involve serving others, secretly especially....and loving the "child-like" joys--Santa, Rudolph (that's why he's on my page), and so forth can help ease the pain. But, inevitably (like today--stupid UPS) something will bring me to the reality--(such as majorly overcharging to ship before Christmas--what a crock! $150.00!!! It was $40.00 last year--and gas prices are cheaper....but, I digress)---that I am a member of the "I See Thestrals Christmas Club". I'm grateful now for those thestrals...but must admit, sometimes I'm more grateful that I'm not alone in this club.
