A Moment of Sad

I thought that I might escape it this year. That day or so of melancholy that comes over me every year at Christmas. It is nothing serious, but it comes every year, just like clockwork.

I know that at the forefront of this is the fact that I still miss my mom. She will have been gone 18 years this Christmas, but I still miss her. I probably always will.

I know, also, not to have too many expectations for Christmas. My DH does not like the holiday and is not going to do something romantic or spontaneous. My dad is going to be a grump. My sister is going to be so tired that she gets snappish. But, every year, a tiny part of me wishes for the whole Norman Rockwell happy holiday bit, even though I know that this is a total myth!

But, I will go do the Christmas Eve thing tomorrow. I will be thankful that my family is alive and well this holiday. It will not be as bad as I fear. And then I will take off to St. Alban's Episcopal Church to sing for the Christmas Eve service. A lot of my Christmas Spirit will come then, singing in this beautiful church and hearing the Christmas Story read.

And Christmas Day is always lovely. My sister's mother-in-law will have everyone over for a potluck lunch. Everything is laid back and everyone feels equally welcome. This is the precious woman who decided with my mom long ago not to make the family have to choose between them every holiday. They would have everyone at Thanksgiving at one house and Christmas at the others house. It is a tradition that works well and has been a blessing.

Of course I have my list of Christmas miracle wishes. I wish for my brother to come back to family gatherings and learn to at least tolerate my sweet stepmom. I wish for my sister to stop and smell the roses a bit more. I wish for better years for my friends who had hard times this year.

I believe in Christmas.

I believe in miracles.

Who knows?