I’m sitting here listening to my Pandora music station – and Michael Buble is singing White Christmas. I just realized this morning that it’s only 6 more days until the fat man slides down the chimney… although I don’t know HOW he’s going to do that if I don’t have a chimney… I’m guessing he’ll just come in through the front door.
I don’t know about all this hullabaloo… I’m so not ready for Christmas – really I’m not. It’s insanity! I did manage by the grace of God this year to get each of my kids a little something -and even was able to spring for the grandbabies both a great gift. I’m pretty pleased with that – it’s the first Christmas in three years we’ve been able to do anything for them.
But in my happiness at being able to give my kids something (no matter how little) I feel a little pang of guilt. How can I celebrate and be happy knowing that under 20 different trees in the town of Newton, CT sit gifts perfectly wrapped and ready for 20 little hands to open? How can I celebrate with those close to me, my dear children, and my loved ones knowing that those moms, dads, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and grandparents will never hear those little voices exclaim how happy they were that the perfect gift was waiting under that tree… or asking for one more piece of pie – or begging to stay up just a little later, in hopes that somehow some way they might catch Santa at his game.
In contemplating this the best I can do is hug my kids a little closer, love my family a little deeper, and pray for those desperately seeking answers for why their holiday was marred by tragedy and the loss of something so very precious.
I owe it to my family to be a bright and cheerful light in the darkness, and to love them and celebrate this joyous holiday – they deserve that – and so does yours. Merry Christmas!