Best-laid Christmas plans don't happen ... and that's OK. Just because.
I thought I was so smart. I thought I could protect my heart and ward off the sadness. I thought all of the hard work I’ve put in over the last year would have me toss my head and look disdainfully at grief while I boldly proclaim out loud: “I’ve got this!"
But grief is a sneaky bitch and she laughed at me, said “hold my beer,” and brought me to my knees Christmas Day morning.
I sat on my kitchen floor and cried. I cried for what I wanted and could never have. I looked up at the ceiling and yelled at My Favourite Husband (MFH), giving him hell for dying first. We had a deal: I didn’t want to do this without him so I told him I got to go first. He chose not to respond to my creative cussing, so I cried about that. I looked down at my kitchen floor and cried because it needed washing. I cried because Christmas was no longer magical and I no longer cared. I cried because I ate a LOT of Lindt peppermint chocolates. I cried because I wanted French toast and none magically appeared on a plate. I cried because all of the pictures around my house showed how happy we were and, damn it, I AM NOT HAPPY RIGHT NOW.
Everything made me howl in pain. It sucked.
However…
I’ve learned enough in my grief journey to know that when sadness comes to visit, it’s just that — a visit. I’ve travelled far enough down this road to know I have lots of tools in my toolbox to ensure I don’t reside in sad and I can make my way back to happy. I’ve learned to allow myself to feel whatever it is I’m feeling and not to bury them unresolved. I know I’ll eventually feel “better” if I face those feelings head on.
After I was done falling apart, it was time to put my pieces back together. I was having Christmas lunch/dinner at my Mom's, so I called her and let her know I was having a rough morning. I told her I had no idea why I got walloped by grief but I wasn’t going to let it ruin anyone's day. What I didn’t tell her was I almost backed out of coming.
I’m glad I went. My family is very casual and a lot of fun. Going brought good company, lots of laughter and too much food. There was no pressure to be or act a certain way. I didn’t have to fake being happy. I just became happy.
When I got home later Christmas Day, I had more peace in my heart, more softness in my soul. I didn’t accomplish the agenda I set out for the morning but the self-care time I had — releasing the grief I didn’t even realize I was holding — was even more important. How can I spread joy if I’m not feeling it?
My amazingly incredible Mom called me Boxing Day morning to see how I was doing. I had told her what I had hoped to do Christmas morning and that it didn’t happen. Knowing her strong- willed, stubborn daughter, she knew I might be beating myself up for a plan that had fallen to pieces.
I told her I was in a way better frame of mind thanks to being at her house. She brought up my plan to spread the love through random acts of kindness. She said I can still do what I want to do and it might be even better if it’s done on any day and not on a special day; a day just because. I thought about it and I love it. MFH used to buy me flowers or gifts not on special occasions but “just because.” It meant more to me than anything I’ve received to celebrate a holiday.
So when Mom suggested the same thing — doing things “just because” — it immediately felt right.
That’s the new plan. The new play. Have some coffee cards ready and with me “just because.” Drop in to see people “just because.” No pressure. No organization. Just letting my heart and my conscious tell me when a moment is right.
I’ve learned a lesson here. I’ve also been reminded of other lessons that I know but filed away as learned and mastered. I’ve been humbled and I’m not too proud to admit it.
Be kind to yourself, as kind as you are to others.
❤️
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