What I want for Christmas

Most everyone is familiar with the movie, A Christmas Story. The star of the show is eight-year-old Ralph Parker. It is set at the beginning of the Christmas season. Right off the bat we are told what Ralphie wants the most for Christmas: a Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle. He dropped a hint for his mom by placing an advertisement for the gun within the pages of her Look magazine. He wrote about his wish in a theme paper his third grade teacher assigned titled “What I want for Christmas”. He even told Santa about it, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to drop a hint to the “Big Guy”. He got the same answer from all three wish-hearers: “You’ll shoot your eye out.”

Christmas comes fully loaded with expectations. I have been under the pressure of these expectations this season. It is made more difficult this year because we have to see each of our kids and their families on different days. This has put tremendous pressure, in addition to deep sadness, on me. What cookies should I bake and will they keep long enough to see the last of our kids New Year’s weekend? I’ve wrapped all 2,649 presents (okay, maybe that’s a little exaggerated) and have marked them all as to who they will go to. Where do I put the ones we won’t be using on the day we are using others? We don’t live in that big of a space. How much food do I order? I’ll have 2 days with kids in our house. How do I make that work? Because of my perfectionism, it is important to me that gift numbers be equal. If someone has fewer than someone else I feel the weight of heavy guilt. Guess what. This year I don’t think I ended with the exact same number for everyone. It is taking all I have to not run to the store and even it out. The problem is, besides the fact that I’ve already WAY overspent, I wouldn’t know what else to buy.

All of this is taking a tremendous toll on my mental health. I was looking through memories last night on Facebook. I noticed on one of my posts a comment by a former friend, former because she isn’t here this year for Christmas. She ended her life this past fall. I found myself envying her. She is now free of depression, of constant sadness and of emotional exhaustion. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I told my husband he just doesn’t understand how hard it is to live like this, to feel so alone, to hate yourself so much, to feel like you are always disappointing someone, and to be not as important to your family as they are to you.

When I was younger and my husband and I were just starting our lives together, I had a vision, a mental picture, of what I believed our family would look like over the years. I taught elementary school for a bit. I became a mom five times (with four living children). I homeschooled them–at least I felt my teaching degree got some use. Everything was happening just like I thought it would. Then suddenly, the earth shifted. What was really a small change in the grand scheme of things exploded to one that was larger than life in my mind. After that came others. Some came from family. Those never stopped. It was direct hit after direct hit on my heart. Others came from the world; things like addiction and lifestyle spun out of control. I was slowly dying inside. I nearly lost the battle. No one but me knows how close I came to the end. And while readers of this might know, it is impossible to know the probability that I shouldn’t be here right now. It’s amazing what a broken heart can do to a person and how many areas of a person’s life that break can affect.

After opening all the presents under the tree, Ralphie is sitting on the couch with his mom and dad. His dad asks him if he had a good Christmas. Ralphie’s response is “Pretty much”. To that his father replies, “Well, there’s always next year.” Not always. My friend’s family never could have guessed that Christmas 2022 would be the last one they would spend with her. I wonder what would have been different if they could have known what the following year would bring. Would her kids make sure to make seeing her on Christmas a priority? Would those who had broken relationships leaving deep, deep scars behind changed their treatment of her? Would her family look at the intense love she had for her grandchildren and promise to make sure she would see them more often? Or would they all laugh at the thought that this could even be a real possible outcome? I wonder the same about my own family. So many moving parts can usually only lead to chaos, at least for the person responsible for it all. My heart has been in a chaotic state for several years. The last two years could be seen as the nail in the coffin. Do they know how much I love them? Do they know how fierce my love is for my grandchildren, those little ones with parts of my blood coursing through their veins? Do they know I wish I could do so much more for them? Do they know the tremendous pain it takes for me to pull of a Christmas that spans a whole week in different places? The exhaustion that comes with all the physical labor involved? Do they know I do it because I get all the happy feels when I watch them open gifts I have carefully chosen for them?

Ralph’s story has a happy ending. After all presents are opened, his dad spots a present hidden behind the desk. Even his mom is stumped as to what it could be. As Ralph pulls the paper off, the camera vacillates between Ralph and his dad. One is just as excited as the other. It’s the kind of Christmas moment that warms even the coldest and miserable hearts. Despite the problems of the day, especially the turkey being eaten by the neighbors’ dogs, the Parker family’s Christmas Story ends with the whole family, dressed in their Sunday best, sitting around a table at the local Chinese restaurant. They laughed as the duck was brought to the table and was further prepared for those who were waiting to dine on him. Everyone likes a happy ending.

As for myself, I will not get the happy ending I so desire and have desired for the last eight years. My Christmas wish will, in all probability never come true. In Fact, from last year to this year it got worse because adult kids make their own decisions, and those decisions sometimes tear my heart from my chest. I’m finding this spot to be trying beyond words, but I do know one thing. Over the weekend I will have a grandchild, his mom, and his dad here. I will watch with delight as each opens their presents. The excitement of a 6-year-old is contagious! I haven’t had much reason to smile so far–even the weather is miserable for me–but I know I will. I will smile while we have conversation around a good meal. I will smile as favorite Christmas cookies are chosen. I will smile mostly because, by God’s grace, at least for now, I am still here to see the wonders of Christmas through the eyes of a child. Ralph’s dad got that feeling too, and it was the biggest smile he’d had throughout the whole movie.