Sometimes Things Unravel

Every other Tuesday afternoon, you can find me facilitating a grief support group. One thing that we all know and acknowledge is that the holidays magnify feelings of loss. I have been anticipating my own challenges as I faced the holidays, with a marriage dissolved and family estrangement issues that have plagued my life for the last few years. I learned some things when it came to Thanksgiving. I cooked a number of traditional things, including an expensive organic turkey, being unsure if a family member or friend might end up coming over. I wanted to be prepared. My former spouse mentioned that he had a variety of things that he'd share, and we ended up swapping some different foods. In the end, no one came, and my kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off in it. I had all of the expense and mess of Thanksgiving dinner, but none of the joy. I will not be making that mistake again in the years to come.

Then the Christmas season began. So many emotions swirling around. I knew that I could not handle all of the Christmas decor and memories in the bins stored in the garage. I initially told my former spouse that there were a few childhood things I'd like to hang onto and he could take the rest. Then I came to the conclusion that this year was not the year to make any decisions about our Christmas things and suggested we decide next year. I knew the tree was too heavy for me to manage alone, so I sold the tree and bought a much, much smaller one. I decorated it with simple things, different from anything we had used as a family. I got a great deal on a new nativity piece and bought new stockings for me and the dogs. I attended some of my favorite events, The Forgotten Carols on the big screen, and A Christmas Carol live theater with a friend. 

Due to Covid, I knew there probably wasn't going to be a whole family gathering. I had a hospice patient that lived to crochet and, especially during quarantine, needed yarn. I had seen how she had made hats and scarves, so I chose yarn that I thought one of my daughter's would like. My patient whipped out her scarf and hat, so I got more yarn. As the weeks, then months, went by, she was busily crocheting something for everyone in my family. Some even had two hats with each scarf if there was extra yarn. Little by little, her health was beginning to decline, and some of the scarves were too short, etc. And when I spread everything out, I realized that I was short one set. My patient had gone to live with a family member, so if I was going to have something for everyone, it was up to me to figure it out. I got on YouTube and learned to crochet. My work was far from perfect, but not too bad for a newbie. The scarf turned out but I was struggling with the hat. I had done a ton of crochet work, following a gal on YT, and I knew it wasn't turning out. I ended up unraveling hours and hours and hours worth of crocheting time, and starting the hat all over. After crocheting well into the wee hours of the morning, many nights in the past few weeks, I finally finished it on Christmas Eve. Maybe it will fit. I'm still not sure. 

I was anticipating that we might have the whole family open theirs together on a Zoom gathering, which would serve two purposes. One would be the chance to see what everyone else's looked like, another would be my ability to take a screen shot with everyone wearing their new set, and send it to her, so she could share in the joy of her work. I have been anticipating this, wrapping all of these hat and scarf sets in the same paper, so everyone would know which gifts not to open until the Zoom gathering. I honestly didn't know if we'd be able to pull it off, but it was sounding as though we might. 

I also had the thought that it would be nice to make the "wedding cinnamon rolls" that our family has made since serving them at Amy's wedding reception. I remember that my parents used to deliver hot sticky buns to our homes on Christmas morning, so I thought I might do the same with the cinnamon rolls. I had all of the ingredients and got started. Oops, I realized that I needed brown sugar. Too late on Christmas Eve, as the stores closed extra early this year. Then I realized I needed powdered sugar. Oops again. A neighbor had the brown sugar, and YouTube helped me with how to make powdered sugar from granulated. I haven't made cinnamon rolls for years, and my goodness, what a mess they made in my kitchen! When I stand for long in basically one position, my lower back begins to spasm, and the only relief is to sit down for a bit. I did a lot of standing/sitting! I got them mixed, raised, rolled, cut, and on the pan for the second rise. I put them into the fridge though, so they could rise in the morning, then bake, and be hot for delivery. After cleaning the entire kitchen, finishing a little wrapping, I crawled into bed at 1:30 a.m., with my whole body aching, and tried to sleep.

It was a rough night. The reality that this was the first Christmas, my 61st Christmas to be exact, that I would awaken to find no one here and no gifts under the tree, no stockings filled, no one to say Merry Christmas to, etc., and I could not stop the tears. How did it all come to this? Christmas will never be anything like it has ever been for me. It is like getting hit in the face by a brick. 

I woke up and attended to the cinnamon rolls. As I placed them, piping hot and frosted, onto plates, it occurred to me that they might not be welcome, or "I" might not be welcome, at a couple of homes, for reasons that I don't fully understand. One daughter knew I was making them and was looking forward to them, so I delivered them to her home and was able to see the gifts the children had received. My ex decided that he'd like one, which is extremely unusual, but he ate it. I dropped off a couple of them to a friend. And I ate two, the only things I've had the whole day. Not because I didn't plan for a meal, but because the days' plans fell apart and stole my appetite with them.

One daughter was stressed and didn't want to Zoom today, but she would not say why. Another daughter told me why. I offered to bring some dinner, asking how I might help, but was rebuffed. One family did not respond to the text thread about when we would Zoom, and little by little, things were unraveling just as the poorly crocheted hat had. All of this started poking at my tender spots, reminding me that I am not a welcome or valued member of my family. It doesn't matter if everyone is getting a hand-crocheted scarf and hat set, or that Mom offers help to a struggling child, or that there is side communication and everyone else knows what is happening except for me. They don't know how much it hurts, for the simple reason that they don't care. By then, there was no longer a reason to even try, and I suggested everyone open those packages when they wished and send a pic to me so that it could be sent to my patient. 

I crawled in the bathtub, leaving my phone elsewhere, no longer wanting any communication with anyone. It is such a betrayal for me; there is so much misunderstanding, miscommunication, skewed perception, etc., that I have to just set it all aside and hope I'm distracted by something else. I sat in the hot water, crying, praying, wishing life did not feel as awful as it does. I give and give and give, but in the end, I really don't mean anything to anyone. Big fat ouch. That's a pretty rough realization. Maybe a little rougher to be with on Christmas Day.

So, I will remember why we celebrate this day. Why it matters that a little baby was born in Bethlehem. How it makes a difference in how I act, how I serve, how I forgive, and how I love. When I focus on my deeply held belief that somehow, all pain will be turned to joy, then I feel gratitude for the day to celebrate the Savior's birth. There is so much to be grateful for. Happy Birthday Jesus!!