How are you doing navigating the emotional roller coaster of the holidays this year?
A few weeks ago I felt like skipping Christmas altogether. It just felt wrong to me to open a bunch of gifts when so many people are suffering from the pandemic. On top of that, the grandparents — always an integral part of our Christmases — are wisely, but with immense sadness for all of us, staying home.
Maybe if we just skipped the whole thing it would be less painful. Or maybe it would ease my discomfort about my privilege, which has allowed me to stay safe at home while others carry the burden to save lives, keep essential services and the economy running, and/or face job, food, and housing insecurity.
I realized, though, that cancelling Christmas in my home will not do anything to ease others’ suffering. I remembered that I can experience difficult emotions and still move forward.
So I got to work decorating the house shortly before my college senior came home for his winter break. With so much disrupted for him this year, it felt good to set up the nutcrackers we brought back from our posting in Germany years ago, to smooth my hand over the holiday fireplace mantel runner I had sewn as a young mother, and hang garland on the stairwell handrails.
When it came to the Christmas tree ornaments, though, I hit a wall.
Our tradition is that I put the lights on the tree, then we find an evening when my mother and our sons are all available to hang the ornaments. I can count on one hand the number of times my mother has not been with us over the past 25 years when we decorated the tree. Her job is to unwrap the pieces, bag the tissue paper, and find hooks at the bottom of the ornament box.
In contrast to stylized Christmas trees that change themes each year, our mishmash of ornaments celebrates our family’s interests, travels, and life experiences. Every ornament is infused with meaning — whether memorializing a trip, acknowledging the role sports have played in our lives, or celebrating a milestone, hobby, or favorite animal in a given life chapter.
Hanging our ornaments connects us as a family unit. It reminds us of our core identities, our evolution over the years, and unites our different personalities and interests into one beautiful co-created space held by the Christmas tree.
When my 24-year-old son — whose job requires him to work in an office with others — said he didn’t want to risk our health by coming to decorate the tree, the ornaments became a bridge too far for me. I had been able to connect with some degree of joy in the other decorations, but I couldn’t even look at the ornament box.
Acknowledging Grief and Connecting to Love
I know the time will come when my mother and our sons won’t be here to help decorate the tree. The pandemic has forced a taste of that. It’s painful and grief-ridden. I feel it as a weight in my heart area. I feel it in the tears that surface from time to time.
When I asked myself what it would feel like to not put the ornaments on the tree as an acknowledgement of the non-normalcy of this year, I felt an energetic easing, a lighter feel in my chest. In my body’s wisdom language, this is a YES.
I shared my thoughts with my younger son and asked him how he would feel if we skipped the ornaments this year. He immediately connected the idea as an act of solidarity with his brother and grandmother. Yay! My husband was OK with it too.
Giving intentional meaning to the decision to forgo our ornaments tradition this year shifted everything for me. It became an act of love, both for my family members who can’t be here and for everyone who is experiencing loss this year. The lights will remain because we need light more than ever. As I have written here before, winter holiday lights give us hope.
Flying our Christmas tree at half-mast is our statement to honor the reality of 2020.
I still don’t know exactly what Christmas itself will look like for us. We’re taking things day by day, just like everyone else. This year has taught us that we can survive uncertainty.
We don’t need to push away the pain, we don’t need to pretend everything is OK, nor do we need to get lost in despair.
Gratitude helps me offset the grief — gratitude for family (family physically in front of me and family safe in their homes), for our jobs, our home, food on the table, and for Zoom. Tapping into what we do have is the antidote to what we don’t have. Gratitude allows us to bend in the wind without breaking.
Merry Christmas and happy winter holidays! Wishing you a season focused on what matters most.
Marcia says
Thank you, Martha. You are giving voice to what so many of us are feeling: the concurrent sense of blessings and hope, along with the sense of sadness and anger. Let us honor those who serve and grieve those whom we have lost, while engaging in purposeful appreciation for those we love and what we have. Tender hugs of appreciation to you!
Martha Brettschneider says
Thanks for the kind words, Marcia. So grateful for your presence in the world. Hope you can feel my virtual embrace! xox Martha
Kathleen Coxe says
Thank you so much Martha! Needed to see this post today. Merry Christmas to you and your family. Wising you the best in the new year.
Martha Brettschneider says
So happy it supports you today, Kathleen! Sending warm holiday wishes back to you and yours, friend. With gratitude, Martha
Collette says
I love this post Martha, thank you for sharing!! I too decided along with my husband, to decorate our fake palm tree in our house with just lights this year with my intention being the same as yours. The tradition of cutting down the tree and decorating it with all our families ornaments just didn’t sit well with me this year and honestly I struggled with it a bit. I’m enjoying the lighted palm tree as it sums up our 2020 year!
Martha Brettschneider says
Yay, Collette! I knew I was not alone! Enjoy the spirit of your lighted palm, which is just a bright. Merry Christmas! With gratitude, Martha
Shirley says
Wishing you a healthy and connected 2021, Martha. I have been debating about sending this privately or posting on your blog…. but after hearing a number of people feeling “guilty” or “privileged” because they were able to somehow enjoy their holiday – or they were happy to be healthy, but feeling for others, I felt the need to share here.
In my small study-group, we are currently using Mark Nepo’s “The Book of Soul: 52 Paths to Living what Matters”. Shortly before your post, we were discussing his writing in chapter 12. I want to share it, as it helped me to feel my purpose in my current privilege of health and connection. I hope that anyone who reads this can see how important it is to feel the joy when others cannot, so that there continues to be light and balance in the world.
“…the presence of suffering always in the background, juxtaposed against the peaceful times and moments of abundance we chance upon. I’ve felt this too and come to make sense that we all take turns in these places, and that it does no good for everyone to be suffering at once. When blessed to be well, we balance the world by being conduits of light for the time being, as long as we stay touchable. ”
It goes on “…when unable to help, our commitment to feeling blessed when we are blessed adds light to the dark and distributes the weight of the world, as long as we let in the pain of others.”
Wishing all the gift of recognizing our blessings – no matter how big or small – and sharing that light.
Martha Brettschneider says
Oh my dear friend, THANK YOU! This is, of course, deep truth. Mark Nepo saves the day again! Thanks also for the tip of The Book of Soul — haven’t read this yet but will add it to my list (I have taken great sustenance from his Things That Join the Sea and the Sky). So grateful for your friendship and presence in the world, Shirley! xoxo Martha