While each day forward is a special blessing, sometimes I still long for the days of yesteryear. My family has grown up. My parents are gone. I recently read that once the glue of the family passes away, the holidays aren’t ever the same anymore. This is why I feel a bit lost every Christmas Eve. I miss the magic of the Christmas Eve of my childhood when we opened gifts. My mom, THE GLUE of the family was all about Christmas. She planned all year long. She decorated in full out style. She wrapped gifts exquisitely. The lights on the tree sparkled. Mom waited in childish expectation for each of us to open the gifts she thoughtfully chose. Christmas Eve was always very special.
I still long for that special excitement. We’ve added attending the Candlelight Service as a family and that is very special. But afterwards all the families go different directions with other plans and we are left to fill the evening on our own. We’ve entertained small parties. We’ve spent quiet evenings at home. This year we went to a movie and ate waffles at Waffle House with our best friends. I never do Waffle House but it was a good night.
But I still grieve for the Christmas Eve of my memories. Grieving is a forever long journey down the lane of life. Turning another corner. Embracing the flood of memories both sweet and sad. Seeing new things while remembering old things. Even through tears. Sad smiles. Replacing last looks with new looks. I usually think I am ready to keep moving forward. But I realize seldom I am ready. Like when I saw the red Christmas dress on my granddaughter. Tears easily sprung to my eyes and memories flowed freely. And tears are okay. Life changes. Memories are forever.
