Sad Christmas

I hit post on this, looked at the title, and immediately came to revise to make it clear that I am merely detailing the ways in which Christmas can be sad, not saying we HAD a sad Christmas. This post is in addition to yesterday's 'Happy Christmas' post. 

It was a bit weird that I said I read something that clicked with my feelings about Christmas and then didn't say what I read, right? I would like to say it's because I was saving it for this post, but really I just kind of blanked on the fact that I could have actually quoted the thing I was referencing.

It was from Polly Vernon's substack, which I have a love/hate relationship with. I will read something and think 'oh fuck off, I'm done', and then the next thing is like 'frig, that's actually kind of genius.' I found out that she was British after I had already started reading her stuff, and it changes things a bit, I'm not sure why.

When I got the substack app I accidentally didn't turn off notifications, so I get pop-ups. I keep meaning to turn them off, but sometimes the pop-up teasers are interesting enough that I read the actual post, and let's be honest, my ADHD brain would probably not even remember that I HAVE the substack app if I didn't get them. Anyway, the pop-up began "I thought Christmas would be dismal, but actually, it was better than usual. I suppose the Death helped. Made the seasonal sadness less existential, more...entirely appropriate."

So then I went to the previous post to see who had died (she didn't really say, it was someone important to someone she is close to.) And I read: "I do most of my crying around Christmas anyway, 70% of it on a normal, non-deathy sort of year, because it is just a terribly sad time, and I don't care what the adverts say. Christmas is haunted: by our pasts, by the things we haven't quite done, by our childhoods. By everyone who isn't here any longer, for whatever reason.... Scrooge only got three ghosts. Most of get far, far more."

Our biggest ghost is Matt's Mom. She LOVED Christmas. She sent the kids gift cards at the beginning of December, and presents for Christmas, and one of the things Eve said she missed the most was getting a card in the mail addressed to "Miss Eve Adams". She filled the house with Poinsettias every year.

 I miss Matt's grandparents terribly: Matt ended up spending way more time with my parents over the last couple of decades; I never had much of a relationship with either of my sets of grandparents. My dad was a surprise late baby and they were very old when we were born. We visited, and they were nice to us, but my grandmother had had a stroke and was in a wheelchair which was a bit freaky for little kids, and my grandfather was nice and read books with me but was deaf so deep conversation wasn't really possible. My mother's parents were Polish and also nice - my grandpa always had Sour Cherry Gum - but there was a huge language barrier. Matt's grandparents were young, and I met them when we were in university, and they were an hour away from the time we got married until they died. My kids actually knew their great-grandparents, which was amazing to me. I felt like Nana really got me. We talked about books. It was amazing. 

But they lived until their nineties. They were ancient and full of years. It didn't make it okay that they died, but it's hard to argue against the natural order of things in cases like that. 

Matt's Mom was barely seventy. We all know life isn't fair, but every now and then it just hits you how VERY NOT FAIR IT IS. Children get cancer. BABIES get cancer. There's no averaging out - some people get many years, some get not nearly enough. Two years after Nana died was not enough time to get used to the idea of losing a parent. 

My brother-in-law Jeremy's kids were quite small when Barb died. He came to the memorial service and said he asked his kids what they thought of when they thought of Nana Barb and they said "Pigs. And Christmas." I read Nance's post about her cows and it reminded me of Barb's pigs and Nana's giraffes, which we hang on the tree now. My library was getting rid of a copy of this book so I sent it down with Matt when he went to pick up Eve and visited them. 

I was texting with my friend Clara, the usual "yes, lovely Christmas, except it's hard to see my parents getting older, and we miss Matt's Mom etc. etc." and she texted back "ah yes, a very Middle Aged Christmas", and yes, extremely so. I am so grateful for all of the wonderful people in my life. I am so grateful that I have kids that want to be home and parents that I like, and that my sister's family usually makes the drive to Ottawa to spend Christmas with us. This year my niece opted not to come home from the UK and my sister and her husband had to work until Christmas Eve. We always worry about them traveling at this time of year anyway, and we definitely didn't want them having to do it on Christmas Day.

I had a Facebook memory come up from a few years ago. My sister's family was here, and my parents, and there were matching pajamas, and hilarious pictures, and it was loud and boisterous and wonderful. I had written "it's hard and stressful and we keep saying we might not be able to do it this way. But for one more year I got exactly what I wanted - a house full of life and love and laughter." I said it, but it was hard to really believe we wouldn't get to keep doing it that way, and yet...

For the past many years, we have gone to Eve's best friend Marianna's house between Christmas and New Year's for the five friends (Eve, Marianna, Alison, Davis, and Jackson) to exchange gifts and then team up to decorate gingerbread houses with much trash-talking and sabotaging and it is so much fun. This year Jackson is moving to Toronto where Alison already lives, and Marianna and Davis and Eve are going down to spend New Year's at their apartment and they're going to do gingerbread houses there.

COVID year - they did them masked in the garage. 

This is all good stuff! Time makes you bolder, children get older. They're all doing so well. I guess it's not only in tv shows that extended families live near each other and see each other weekly, but it's never been the norm in our family. I am hugely judgy of parents who expect their children to be just like them, and spend every holiday and important moment with them no matter what paths their own lives take. I enjoy spending time with my husband and we have a great group of friends. I don't want to be unable to let go of things. I even like some of the new ways we do stuff. It's just difficult, and bittersweet, because all of the old stuff was really great too. "It all feels a little precarious, and very precious", I used to write in Christmas cards. Yes, and yes. 

So in the days leading up to Christmas I was happy and then I was really sad, and kind of frustrated with myself for dwelling on things that can't be changed. It was good to read something that made reminded me that I AM middle-aged (top of middle, if we're being really honest) and there is stuff that goes along with that, especially at Christmas. And that's fine.