Happy New Year
Happy New Year. It’s time to put away the sparkly decorations and get back to real life. As I’ve noticed in so many past years, the newness of New Year’s is exciting and shiny. The first week of the year for me seems to be the honeymoon period. It’s the time when I am hopeful and I struggle. Writing 22 vs. 21 on items that ask for dates can be tricky. Now we sit closer to 2040 than 2000, which is scary and amazing. Life tumbles forward.
At the end of 2021, all of my children visited me. This year was the first time in 2 years that all 3 were in the house together. Yes, I know I’m a JewBu but still, we gather for the Christmas holiday in my house. For the 25 years I was married, I celebrated Christmas in the commercial sense, so it’s still a time that we gather and eat a big meal. We have no tree; we place our gifts under a coffee table. It’s the Rocky Mountain Yogi way to celebrate. Now, my children have returned to their respective homes. Of course my one son lives here in SLC, and I get to see him whenever our schedules connect. My oldest son and daughter live airplane flights away, so I don’t see them as often. When they visit, I get excited in anticipation of arrival. I am sad when they leave. Sometimes, I am sad before they leave, remembering what those endings are like.
This year we had a great holiday. I would dare to say it was our best holiday together ever. We chatted. We played games. We watched videos together. We shared music that we liked. We laughed. We laughed and laughed and laughed. Me? I stayed in the moment. I ended each day with gratitude for our connection. I didn’t worry about when they would leave because I knew that would take the joy out of the here and now. Still, it was hard to let go.
As my children arrived, so did their stuff. Coats were placed on the backs of chairs. Treats were dropped on kitchen counters. While I enjoy a tidy home, these items were reminders that my children were here sharing their time and space with me. As the visit wore on, more items wormed their way into my living space. Wrapping paper, boxes from gifts delivered, and gift bags all littered the rooms. Some I quickly removed; some I left as reminders that I was now sharing my space. At Christmas dinner, we opened Christmas Crackers, a tradition from the days when we lived in England. Each cracker came with a paper crown and a wind-up penguin so that we could compete in a penguin race with each other. Paper crowns that we placed on our heads now adorned the surfaces around the house. The penguins remained lined up like sprinters on their paper track.
At one point during the visit when we had another guest in the house, I made sure we had her take a family picture. I wanted to remember the connection we had together. I wanted to observe a slice in time of this joyous period, so I could look back with fond memories.
Not all our holidays together have been joyous. I remember many holidays when I was married that were stressful and unhappy. When I first got married, my husband told me that he had memories of stressful and unhappy holidays from his childhood. I told him we would make new memories that would be better. Now here I was trying to make better memories for myself and my children.
When it was time for my son to leave, we were blessed with an inconvenience that made our visit together even sweeter. He was scheduled to leave at 6 PM but then his flight was delayed 3 hours. Luckily, we found out just before leaving for the airport. His bags were packed and ready to go, so that gave us time to play another game together. More time, more laughs.
Once my son left, I found myself tidying up even more. The signs of the children were fading. I started to wonder: Did I take enough pictures? Were a few stills on the couch enough to remember this special time together? When will the 4 of us be able to gather as a group again? Will it be as joyful?
My daughter was scheduled to leave the next day. As the clock ticked and her departure got closer, I noticed that sad feelings were creeping in. I know that it doesn’t help for me to hold my feelings in, but at the same time, I didn’t want to upset my daughter. Looking at the family photos sprinkled around my house, I started to feel bittersweet for my parents who are long gone and could not be a part of our gathering. They weren’t there in person, anyways.
After everyone left, I just collapsed. I think I was tired from the hosting, cooking, gathering, playing, and even laughing. I spent a lot of time under a blanket on my couch. I started going back to morning yoga classes. I visited the supermarket and bought foods that were just for my menu. One of those moments when I was on the couch, I discovered a paper crown. It was folded up sitting on the shelf of my glass coffee table. It still sits there. It’s a reminder of the lovely holiday break we all shared. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to not to tidy up sometimes and just leave the memory to take up space.
