Just lose them once. You lose them a million times, in a million ways.
You lose them every Christmas with every ornament you place on the tree. You lose them when you dust off the turkey platter. You lose them when you tuck their stocking back in the decor box. You lose them all over with every Christmas memory that floods back to you.
I know I keep going back to this topic but this time of year it hits me right in the gut. I’ve spent hours tracking down vintage decor from years gone by and every piece takes my breath away when I find it because the memories flood my whole world.
Gazing at the Christmas lights in our window and I picture that holly tree outside my childhood living room window and the single strand of Christmas lights my dad put up.
Every Christmas cookie transports me back to that little farmhouse kitchen. I’m right there warm from the roaring fire in the wood stove decorating gingerbread men with my mom. Coconut hair and smartie buttons every year. Those sugar cookies with the Nutty club green and red fancy sugar glisten in my mind. Mincemeat tarts and platters of cheese, garlic sausage with ritz crackers look so fancy in my memory.
Watching Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer in my pj’s on the living room floor. I think I can still feel that worn brown carpet if I close my eyes and try hard enough. That tiny living room felt huge when I was small. The worn tinsel garland hung ceiling corner to corner. Stockings thumb-tacked to that wood panel wall. Santa knew to use the front door because our chimney was certain death as we didn’t have a fireplace. I know Santa knew because big brother Earl assured me every year.
The coffee table always looked festive with a bowl of Christmas candy, a fancy starched dollie and our hobnail flocked poinsettia candle holder. It wasn’t much but oh how I looked forward to helping put those decorations out! The fresh cut tree in the corner was always too big for that room! Back then I didn’t know our home wasn’t fancy. I didn’t know it was too small. It was home and it was welcoming. It was lived in and Christmas made it feel even cozier.
It’s so magical I keep going back there in my dreams because nostalgia thankfully paints over the ugly parts when it comes to take you on a trip down that candy cane lane.
What I wouldn’t give to have one more Christmas in that old farmhouse. One more batch of cookies with Mom. One more trip to cut down a tree with Dad and one more reassuring conversation with my big brother that Santa won’t slide into the wood stove!
I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams.
Three years ago today I held her hand as she left this world. I listened as she took her last breath. There hasn’t been a day since then that I haven’t thought about her. Her favourite things have become my favourite things because they remind me of her. I find myself buying things in the grocery store she bought. I find myself ordering the food she loved in restaurants. I buy myself the flowers and I eat the cake because of her. I try my hardest to bring Jacob happiness and give him little treats the way she did for me. I carry everything about her real deep in my chest.
After school gingerbread decorating with Christmas royalty!! Oh how I pray these memories stick with these kids and some day when they are in their 40’s they think back on these moments and smile. I hope they feel the nostalgia…. I hope when im gone and they miss me that they hold these memories close
All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation….desperately waiting.
If you’re unexpectedly drawn to a place it’s because there is something there for you…. Your story is meant to unfold there.
I really didn’t want to come down.
And sometimes those gray sky mornings stop you in your tracks.
Living through it all and you remember that you’ll be just fine. All of your time… there’s always something more.
Through the jungle through the dark…..alleyways and pay phone calls.
It’s always a day when those deep exasperated sighs start before sunrise.
When you’re pregnant people are quick to share advice and tips. When you have a new born everyone has a sure fire way to help you cope! When you reach the toddler years the other Mom’s are quick to share stories about what is working and what isn’t.
But what nobody talks about is how it’s going to feel when you realize your little isn’t little anymore. No one talks about the last time they rocked their little to sleep because the thing about last times is we generally don’t know it’s the last time.
No one tells you the sting of going from a moment of elation watching your 9 year old run in a touchdown to the utter gut punch moment of realizing your 9 year old is now big enough and strong enough to be excelling in a full contact sport.
No one tells you about the day their little strolled into the kitchen and got their own snack because they don’t need to rely on the grown ups for simple things anymore.
Nobody tells you.
Nobody talks about it.
We all experience it over and over tho. We take it in stride, We absorb it in quiet. We wipe away the tear that spilled out as we try to catch our breath. We endure it alone, in our way. But we don’t talk about it.
Nothing slows down ….. my baby moves faster everyday and tho he’s still right here he’s metaphorically miles away all the time. He’s finding his path, he’s finding his strength, he’s finding himself.
No one told me how to swallow the bittersweet taste of watching my only baby become a big kid.
No one told me that my proudest days of watching him succeed would come with nights laying awake wondering how it all went down so fast.
Time is betraying me while it simultaneously holds open doors of adventure, growth, and wisdom for Jacob. Time is stealing him from me and me from him.
Nobody talks about it because it’s life’s greatest hurt.
Life With The McGavins 