The Spirit of Christmas

 Merry Christmas!!!

This year was one for the books and not necessarily in a good way.  Death, disaster, and destruction found it's way into our home this year.  Since losing my Mama in February, nothing has been the same.  The air feels different.  Food tastes different.  I am different.

I said it before and I'll say it again, grief sucks, man.

This Christmas season I have been looking for the Christmas Spirit.  I have not been able to find it.  I've been praying, listening to Christmas music since October, looking at my decorations, wrapping presents and yet, no Spirit.

Usually, I go to Mass on Christmas Eve.  However, this year with the weather all stormy and dark (which I love, just not driving in), I decided to go early on Christmas Day.

It was a beautiful Mass, however, I was having a hard time concentrating on the Mass itself.  I was people watching, looking at the beautiful nativity, just lost in my own thoughts.  Despite this, my attention would always come back to the Mass.  Nope, no Christmas Spirit yet.  I guess it was not going to happen this year.

As the Mass was ending, we began to sing the recessional song, "Joy to the World".  "Joy to the world, the Lord has come, let earth receive her King".  And, in the packed church, my eyes weld up with tears and my arms were covered in chills.  Her King.  My King.  My Lord has never and will never forget me.  The Spirit of Christmas had found me, finally.  My King had arrived!

This Advent season, I had been yearning to feel the Spirit of Christmas, and on Christmas day, I finally did.  Grief is never easy, and it's harder at the holidays to be sure.  But, with Jesus and Big Daddy, I survived.   Not only did I survive what I thought would for sure kill me, I had a multitude of blessings this year.  And on that is what I choose to focus on.  Death, disaster, and destruction did not win.  Jesus did.  And He will forever win.  May you hold the Spirit of Christmas in your heart all year round.

Love,

Me

Fr. Mike, Honesty, and my Mama

It's the third week of Advent.  The week of joy.

I can honestly say I haven't felt the Christmas spirit yet.  And, if I'm honest, I don't know if I'm going to this year.  I've joked that the only way I'll get the Christmas spirit this year is if I'm visited by 4 ghosts on Christmas eve.

Grief sucks, man.

I said it before and I'll say it again.  I miss my Mama more than I ever thought possible.  I miss her hugs, her wisdom, her laugh, and her joy.  I miss her telling me that everything is going to be okay.

But, I'm alive.  I'm here, and I'm trying.  Sort of.  Fr. Mike's homily this week was a good one (they usually are) and it resonated with me.  He talked about how we come to Jesus.  I'm paraphrasing here, do we come to Him as we truly are?  Are we honest with ourself on who we truly are?  Do we hide parts of ourself from Him?  After listening to this, it has sent me inward the last 24 hours.

I always felt/thought I came to Jesus as I am.  What you see is what you get.  That I want His will (mostly) in my life.  I come to Him in prayer for myself and others.  I've always said, I don't front.  I'm not a thee and thou girl.  I'm a here's what's going on, Dad, girl.  Going inward these last 24 hours, I realized I kinda do front. 

I'm broken.  Way more than I ever thought or realized.  I get up everyday,  slap a smile on my face, and do what needs to be done.  But, the smile isn't as genuine as it use to be.  Yes, I miss my father-in-love.  Yes, I miss my Mama.  Yes, I miss estranged family members.  Yes, I'm blessed beyond measure.  But, if I'm honest, I've been lying to God and myself.  I'm angry.  Hurt.  Tired.  I keep saying this path that I've been on for the last three years is my joy to walk.  And, it is.  But, mostly, I hate it.  I had a different future with my family planed.  I had way more joy, laughter, trips, vacations, laughter, date nights, and family time envisioned.  Not fighting with insurance, doctor visits, hospital stays, strained relationships, or funerals.  I don't like this path I'm called to walk.  But I walk it, because He asked me to.  Do I walk it joyfully?  Some days yes, some days, no.  I'm envious of others (not in a I don't want you to have it, but I want it too way).  Of their family relationships, of their trips, their vacations, their traditions, their date nights.  That's what I had planned.  I'm hurt that I don't get that.  I feel like a little kid having a tantrum "it's not fair".  But as my Mama always said "whoever told you life was fair was lying to you".   I want God's will.  I honestly do.  But, if I'm honest, I also want my will.  Can't they coincide every once in a while? 

One particular night, in the middle of the night, I awoke to use the restroom and I remember clearly talking to God "I will walk this path because you're asking me too", I said.  I don't like this path I'm being asked to walk.  But I walk it out of obedience and love for Him.  And, this path has brough unexpected blessings.   That said, I know His plans are always better than mine.  I know He has a future for me full of love and hope.  Is He trying to teach me something, probably.  Most likely.  Do I know what it is yet?  Nope.  Not a chance.  But, I trust in Him.  And, so I walk, putting one foot in front of the other.

Yes, I'm broken, for now.  On the plus side, I'm not fronting anymore (I didn't realize I was).  And now, maybe, I can begin to heal and find my joy.

Wishing you a blessed Advent season.

Love,

Me

Movies, Music, and My Mama

 Did you ever see the movie Babe?  It's a fabulous movie about a pig.  There's a scene in the when Babe says in a sad tone "I want my mum".  I've said that a lot over the years.  Although we talked almost every day, sometimes I just wanted a hug from her.  She made everything better.  It's been eighteen days since my Mama passed and I feel quite hollow.  I get up every day and do my daily routine.  Awake, pee, brush teeth, wash face, let Iggy out, get Big Daddy set for work.  The rest of my day is filled with the mundane; grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, et al.  I abhor laundry more than any other task.  It's the putting it all away for me.  I don't know why. 

There's an old movie I loved as a kid, Little Lord Fauntleroy.  It's a movie about a boy (Ricky Schroeder) and stars Alec Guinness.  SPOILER ALERT!!!!  At the end of the movie, Ricky Schroeder's Mom comes out from behind the Christmas tree.  Ever since we moved away from being local to my Mama 23 years ago, my wish was that she would come out from behind my Christmas tree each year.  It didn't happen and each year I would say 'next year'!  The last few years as my Mama's health became more challenging, I knew it would never happen, but I still wished she would surprise me.  The reality of that dream being no longer possible greatly saddens me.

My Mama and I connected on so many levels, not just movies (we loved Funny Girl and very bad B movies, They Call Me Bruce, and Rhinestone) but music.  We had two songs that were wholly ours:  I Just Called to Say I Love You as well as You and Me Against the World.  I grew up listening to my Mama sing everything from Helen Ready, Captain & Tennille, to opera.  Some of my very favorite memories as a teenager was playing the piano while my Mama or my sister would sing.  

While movies and music are wonderful, the best gift my Mama gave me was my faith.  As a cradle Catholic, I grew up getting the sacraments and went to church every Sunday.  While I didn't understand the why of it as a child, I knew it as it's just what we did.  We didn't talk a lot about Jesus and faith while I was growing up.  Rather, it was quietly instilled.  We prayed before every meal, we were taught to say our prayers, and my Mama let me know if ever I needed anything, Jesus was there.  I would talk to God, but really didn't listen for an answer, just talk.  As I became older, and I'd like to think somewhat wiser, we had more talks about faith, Jesus, and the Saints.  I still talk to Jesus and even pause to listen for His voice sometimes lol

While I miss my Mama so much, sometimes it's hard to breathe, my faith, the faith that she instilled in me continues and will continue to sustain me.

 Until next time, know I am praying for your intentions.

Love,

Me

100 Days

Well, it has been some time, hasn't it?  Since my last blog post, we've moved cities, build a home, lost jobs, gained jobs, faced health issues, lost loved ones, became empty nesters, and found our tribe.  The kids are all grown and married and we now have THREE grandchildren!  Through all of this there was sadness, pain, joy, faith and a multitude of love.

I titled this post 100 days because it sounds better than 98.  In 98 days we took two trips to Philadelphia, Big Daddy's dad, whom I've claimed as my own dad for the last 25 years, the most brilliant person I've ever known, passed away.  Then, both girls were married, three weeks apart.  Throw in Thanksgiving, Christmas, a trip to Myrtle Beach, and then 15 days ago, my mama, the keeper of my heart, passed away.  During these 98 days there was absolute joy and soul crushing sorrow.  However, the thing that persists, the reason I get out of bed in the morning, is my faith.  That, and the fact I have to pee.

Faith doesn't mean that everything is going to be easy, it means I'm going to be okay no matter what is happening.  I'm blessed that I was able to be at both of their bedsides and tell them how much I love them and how much they meant to me.  Both, for different reasons.  I'm blessed with the love and strength of our tribe that has sustained me daily, especially when I don't realize it.  I'm blessed that God brought me Big Daddy and his parents, the greatest in-laws to ever walk the faith of the earth.  I'm blessed that we added two sons to our family.  I don't like the term in-law as to me, it comes across as 'the law says you have to let me into your home'.  Meh, do I reaaally?  We not only welcomed two new sons into our home, but into our hearts.    They (and their families) are the perfect spouses for our girls.  Lest I leave my daughter-in-love out, our friendship and love have grown exponentially over the last four years.  I'm blessed to have watched our children grow into wonderful adults.  Were the last few years easy?  No.  Not at all.  There were arguments, hurt feelings, anger, and resentment.  But, there was also, forgiveness, friendship, grace, and love.  Any relationship, be it friendship, marriage, or relationships with your adult children, they take work.  No one is perfect.  Perfection is a myth.  That has taken me too many years to realize.  There are going to be arguments, disagreements, anger, et al.  The key is forgiveness and grace both for yourself and them (I'm working on forgiving myself and giving myself grace, it's not always easy).  Does that mean my relationship with my friends and children are perfect?  Nope, not a chance.  While they are good, there is always room for improvement.  I'm a type A control freak with OCD.  I want my family and my tribe all to live next door (at least within five seconds, don't you know).  I want them to have amazing lives, I want to have big gatherings with them all.  It doesn't work like that.  They have their own lives, dreams, and goals.  I am blessed that I get to be a part of it.

Through the last few months, I've been depressed, angry, sad, and yes, joyful.  And through it all my faith, family, and my tribe is what sustained me.  I know no matter how bad things are that God is using my pain, sorrow, and joy, for a reason.  And, while I selfishly want to know the reason, most days, I'm content in not knowing.   I know that while I am mourning the loss of those who had the most profound affect on my life, that I am not alone.  I am never alone.  God, Big Daddy, and my tribe surround me with love, patience, and sometimes a kick in the arse when needed.

Until next time, I wish you faith that can move mountains and a tribe of your very own.

Love,

Me