So Close and Yet So Far ~ a different kind of Christmas

So close but yet so far. That is the phrase that keeps going through my head. I've been having unprecedented insomnia. Hmm. Don't you just hate those two words?  

There is nothing to fear but fear itself. The fear of not sleeping will induce insomnia quicker than a second espresso. Motherhood prepares you for this. We can function even on zero hours. But, it's nothing close to our very best self. This too shall pass. I should have gotten the tattoo years ago. I repeat, as every year passes, caregivers, secure your own oxygen mask. I know how to get the low hanging self care fruit. 

As I decorate for Christmas, with no one coming, no parties, no recitals, probably not many friends stopping by, I'm taken back to the ghosts of Christmas past. All the way back. The smell of cranberry candle in my Eldridge, Iowa house. My mom having everything perfect. Rag curlers in our hair. The Harry Simeone Choral Little Drummer Boy on the record player, with Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians cued up. Her home sewn decorations everywhere. Little red lights in the cupboard. 

Then, the Christmases I lived alone, completely broke, in Austin. The ornaments my Austin students gave me each year. The gingerbread houses they made for me. The little Christmas plates and mugs my sister gave me for graduation. They came from the fancy Williams Sonoma store and I still cherish them. Eleven years of the long cold drive home across the country. Seventeen hours in good weather. Please, celebrate me home. 

Then marriage and the years of littles. The years of the Christmas train. You can go back to past blogs to read the INSANE amount of activities we had to fit in between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Forgive us our Christmases as we forgive. . . 

This year there is no calendar stress. It is a different kind of Christmas. The calendar is virtually, ha, ha, get it. . . "virtually" empty. Yet we have different kinds of stress. To wish for things to be different is a recipe for melancholy. So, let's just wish for what we have, a peaceful holiday time where we focus on keeping people well while preserving as much as we can of traditional Christmas life. Pay attention to what people might be needing, try to lift each other up while acknowledging that it's okay to just be what we are. We really can't fix it. We can just be there. Thank you to my family and friends for listening to the daily sleep report. I'm also happy to listen to your daily report as well, whatever that might be. I'll try to listen. 

This morning I discovered a new Christmas album. It's Enya's 2019 Christmas album. When I was practicing for my graduation recital, I listened to a lot of Enya. I needed music to get the other music out of my head in order to sleep. I needed music, that is, without too much going on. A pure voice and slow predictable harmonic progressions. 

Here is a link if you need something like this: Enya Christmas

So close and yet so far. Sleep. Grandparents. Friends. Christmas. Christmas past. Christmas future. And here we are in Christmas now. A different kind of Christmas. 

I started writing this yesterday morning. Yesterday afternoon my mom's dog Josie was hit by a Fed Ex truck. Josie was a good dog. She was loved by all for nine good years. The pain is the price we pay for loving. We are not going to stop loving. Still, things can change very fast, as fast as a truck going by the mailbox. I can think back to every moment when I lost a pet. They are etched. Thank you Josie, for being a good companion to Janel. Janel, we are all thinking of you and wishing you peace. 

Well, I'm almost done with my decorations. And then we bake, and then we wrap presents. That's how it's done around here. And in between we wait for the kid to come home. And wait for school to start again. And wait to see each other in pure joy. 

Peace to you. And little moments of connection and joy. We are not going to stop loving. We aren't going to stop Christmas -- Dr. Fauci said Santa is immune. It's just going to be a little different. There is a lot to be thankful for. 

I apologize for the rambling blog. It's a little bit where I'm at I guess. Not in a huge hurry and letting my  mind wander back and forth from year to year and on to some huge party next year with caroling and appetizers and huge spreads of cookies for the children. On to live Christmas shows. And live church choirs. Mixing generations. 

I'm thinking of the last scene of the Grinch, when Grinch can't stop Christmas from coming. I like that. It will come without all its usual glory. It will be a different kind of Christmas, but I'm still showing up for as many people as I can. 

Merry Christmas and big hugs to all of you who keep reading this, year after year, through the ups and downs, the high highs and the low lows. I love you all very much.