I guess it has been some time since I have written. Like most people living in these days, I have found myself busy. Of course, the holiday season adds to that busyness, but for me, with the exception of Thanksgiving, the holidays haven’t had their full impact yet. I cannot remember a Thanksgiving Day that I did not have the majority of my Christmas decorating done. Until this year, that is. A combination of factors combined to cause me to not really care much about decorating for Christmas.
The first factor, and probably the most responsible, is one about which I have written much. My precious grandson (our only grandchild) is not living in the same state as us anymore. If he were here, putting up colorful Christmas lights and decorations that play music would have been an exciting chore. The lights reflecting in his beautiful blue eyes as he takes in the wonder of the season in pure childlike delight would have made the work worth it. His mommy is hoping they will be here at some point around Christmas. Of course, that depends on weather and road conditions as well as how generous new employers want to be with time off. I am hoping with all that is in me that it works out so they can be here. I did not take for granted the Christmas mornings we had with children. Even as they entered the more difficult to buy for teenage years, I enjoyed buying gifts and delighted in watching those gifts be opened on Christmas morning. But, as much fun as it is watching my grown children open gifts, it can’t be compared to watching a little child do the same thing.
A second factor in my lack of zeal for Christmas decorating has been the weather. Case in point: it is the end of November and it is currently raining outside. I love rain…in the spring and summer. But NOT in November. By now, there should be snow falling outside my window. In fact, I remember Thanksgiving Days in Western New York where I grew up that I went sledding! I feel like I haven’t experienced a real winter in many years. If you know me, you know I really love winter. I love snow. I love cold. None of those three things have made their appearance yet this year. It is difficult to get in the spirit of Christmas–a winter holiday–when there is no hint of winter to be found outside.
A third factor in my late celebration of Christmas, and probably the one that has impacted me the most, is the ever present depression that has plagued me since way back in spring. I can’t remember a time in the recent past that a bout with depression has held on this long. At times, there has been some light that has broken through the ever present darkness. Sadly, those times are few and far between and very short lived in duration. I can say that I am taking the right steps–everything that someone would suggest are things I have done and continue to do. Yet, the grip of darkness continues.
A fourth, and the final factor I have the energy to write about, is some difficult waters we are walking through with a few of our adult children. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year; this year, my heart has been pulled in so many other directions that there is nothing left for celebrating. Part of me wishes we could just skip Christmas this year. My love language is gifts, and given the money we have spent on medical bills and have to spend for needs for some of our kids, I don’t foresee gift buying in our future. This is absolutely breaking my heart.
So why did I assign this entry the title I did?
I am not a fan of boxing or kickboxing or any similar type sport, but I have watched a fair share of these events. I have seen a fighter, trapped in a corner, as his opponent hits him with a right hook, then a left hook, and then another quick right. The blows keep coming, relentlessly pummeling him until the referee blows his whistle to put an end to his misery. Bloodied, he staggers to his safe haven, relieved to be free of the repeated blows of the more powerful fighter. I feel like that bloodied fighter. For more than seven months, I have been on the receiving end of blow after blow after blow. Only, for me, there is no referee to call an end to the fight. A fighter, if the match is not called, will eventually fall to the mat in defeat. I am close to falling to the mat of this fight called life. I am tired of being hit time and time again. I want out of the ring. I need relief soon.
But there is none in sight.