It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
Just in time...
Welcome to another installment of The Bittersweet, where I share moments and memories from my search for a richer perspective on the bittersweet moments that make up modern life.
Hello Friends,
Here we are on the eve, of the eve, of Christmas Eve and I’m feeling somewhere between frantic and nostalgic.
Frantic because the to-do list is still a mile long, and the rain has put our remodel project on hold.
Nostalgic, because this is the first year the older kids have admitted to knowing about Santa. Last year, they asked why Santa and Dad had the same handwriting, so we suspected they knew, but this year, they actually said it out loud.
I told them that now it was their turn to be the Magic Makers for Tatum, and being a Magic Maker can be pretty fun. But this year, I’ve struggled to find the holiday spirit.
I wasn’t even going to put up a tree until Nick pointed out I was being a bit of a Grinch. The space feels a little more festive, but this is still a house that doesn’t feel like my home.
One night, I was being particularly grumpy. Nick waited until the kids were out of earshot before he called me out.
“Let’s hear it,” he said.
“I’m overwhelmed. I feel lost and don’t know what I’m doing with my life, and like I’m falling short on everything.”
“Everything?” I could hear his eyebrows raise.
I rambled on about a whole host of things I didn’t feel were going well. Everything from worrying about a friend’s daughter who has cancer, to keeping up with laundry and dishes, to how much we are spending on Christmas, to missing my husband during these hectic days.
“And Tatum isn’t sitting up yet, and I watch her like a hawk, looking for signs that she has a brain tumor and we might lose her too… and… I miss Aiden. ”
BINGO
In times like these, I tend to focus on trivial problems because it’s easier than sitting with grief. A few times a year, usually in December and May, I come to a boiling point. I work with my head down for too long, that when I look up, my feelings come at me all at once.
Fifteen years ago I would have turned this feeling into a crisis. These days i know what to do.
Say it all out loud, connect with people who make me feel good, move my body, and write about it.
Last week, I met up with a friend for a hike, and at some point, the conversation turned to our first Christmas with our partners.
It was so interesting to look back on our younger selves, playing house with our new boyfriends.
I met Nick’s very Catholic parents for the first time in my pajamas. We flew into Omaha late the night before and slept in the same bed. Since I had been without my parents for years at this point, I didn’t even consider this might be an issue, but looking back on it now, and knowing my Mother-in-Law as well as I do, it feels a little scandalous. To their credit, they never said anything and welcomed me with open arms.
My friend and I exchanged awkward moments about what happens when family traditions, expectations, and Love Languages clash, and by the end, we were both in stitches.
Later that night, I met up with my book club. The host is a fantastic cook, her house was cozy, and she had holiday music playing. We did a book exchange, and for the first time, it felt like Christmas.
This is where I am today. Thank you for listening.
xoxo,
Emily
From the archive
Linkspo
People are lonely! Inclusion is important! This makes the case for extending the invitation to everyone!
A year in photos, California edition. (The New York Times)
“The deadline that forever feels like ‘someday’”
nails the uphill battle of writing a memoir. Maybe I’ll get there in 2024.If you’ve been around for a while, you know I have a thing a thing with bananas. (
)“…even Donna Reed wasn’t Donna Reed.” (
)At book club on Wednesday, I felt festive for the first time this season and it got me thinking about
and her idea that the holiday spirit really is just a decision.Two people, paper and pens just might help us trust each other more. (The New York Times)
This post about friendship is so relatable! (
)“December can hurt more than other months. Repeated rituals permit a magical thinking. We say, last (or last, last, last) year, at this time, our dead were still here.” (Orion)
If you only have time for one thing… watch this baby elephant discover their trunk for the first time.
Emily, you sparked many memories.
We are Jewish and had a Christmas tree but no Santa belief.
My first Christmas with my wife, then de facto girlfriend, was when I'd taken her away to LA (1984) and she told me then that she'd be breaking up with her long term boyfriend (still in school) to be with me.
And we couldn't sleep in the same room when we visited my grandparents in Florida for July 4th, 1985 unless we were engaged. We were engaged that June.
Emily--You are just such a special young woman! The holidays are always stressful it seems. I wish you and your beautiful family the very best holiday, with special old and new memories to be remembered and made. I think of you so often. Some time I hope to come visit--John's daughter and her family live in Santa Barbara (she is a dean at UCSB wellness dept). Our love to you Barbie and John and Pat