A Christmas to Remember

Charlie Pride is spinning on the record player, fireplace is crackling, Christmas tree is up with gifts piled underneath, white carpet is raked (yes, raked. lol), crackers and cheese dip are out along with a tray of uncracked walnuts. My dad is telling jokes, laughing, dancing and full of life. This was Christmas many years ago and I loved it so much. The holidays are such a mix of emotions. I would like to think most of us enter the season with hopefulness, positivity, love and a wonderous sense of magic. But then as the weeks pass, it seems the to-do lists, expenses, time crunches, going here-going there all seem to slowly bring about stress, exhaustion and even sadness. If all that were not enough to contend with, the holidays tend to illuminate our grief and heartache for those we no longer get to share the season with.

How can “the most magical time of year”, a time when we should be celebrating the birth of Christ and spending time with loved ones and giving to others, also become the most difficult time of year? Human nature is such a fascinating thing and it is also where we find common ground. I believe this mix of emotions is a reality for most of us and hopefully it ignites a compassion for ourselves and those around us. This year, the holiday season is slightly different for me. I spent so many years hurting for and because of my dad. So many years of trauma. My dad had become my charity of choice at Christmas time. I would purchase care packages to deliver to whatever pathetic living conditions he had found himself in. Often with my youngest brother, we would enter with anxiousness and hesitation and we would leave heartbroken and with disbelief that this was our reality. These moments were such a contradiction to my experiences as a child. All the years I was growing up and he was “healthy”, he was such a giver. He was generous with friends and family, but especially to strangers. At that time, we did not have homeless on the streets in our quaint community holding signs asking for money, but we did have people who would get out and hold up a sign asking for food or work and my dad would often pull over and tell the person to meet him at his office at a certain day and time. If they showed up, they had an opportunity to work and earn money to feed themselves and their family.

He loved giving gifts. I believe this was one of his love languages, though he also shared words of affirmation and was very affectionate. He spoiled me and I loved it! This year it seems the gift I have received is the gift of FINALLY being able to let go of the heartbreaking memories and being able to return my thoughts to happier times with my dad. I can finally smile again when I think of him and most importantly, I FINALLY MISS HIM!!! I have so many memories that make me smile and laugh out loud. He was full of life for so long and I now get to choose to remember that man. It has taken a year and a half of work to help me get to this place. I have an amazing therapist who has helped me to understand alcoholism. Not just the disease, but the person who it has taken. After my dad’s passing, my mom was also a huge support. She showed such grace and love and shared such beautiful words and memories of my dad and reminded me how very much he loved me. All of this, combined with prayer, lots of tears and heartache and a strong desire to move past the pain has helped me land in this beautiful place. I recently found a Christmas card he had sent to me while I was attending school in Italy. I am so happy I held onto these precious gifts.

MERRY CHRISTMAS DAD. I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU…