Balancing Act

It's New Year's Eve. It hit me all of a sudden that 2009 is almost over. Sheesh, I'm still trying to remember that Christmas is over.

I've been fighting a cold for the last three days. As I sit here and type I'm practically drowning in a sea of wadded up tissues, comfy blankets, and an armory of cough and cold relief medications. It's the kind of sick that makes you want to burrow under the blankets, crash on the couch, and have someone bring you hot tea and clean up your mess. It's a good thing I've never really been much of a party-type person on New Year's Eve. I'll be lucky if I can keep my eyes open long enough to say hello to 2010. Pizza, some sappy movies, and my two favorite girls cuddled on the couch sounds perfectly wonderful to me.

But for right now, Laurie's already at work, Rachel's still upstairs sleeping, and I'm hanging out with the cats and my laptop in the quiet of the morning hours, trying to come up with the right words to sum up this past year.

Last year around this time I was desperately anxious to be rid of 2008. I think I had some unrealistic expectations that 2009 was going to be wonderful, simply because I deserved a break.

Funny how life doesn't always work out quite like that.

In some ways, this year was marked with as much loss as last year. My friends that I lost to cancer, Heather and Terri. My grandfather. My grandparents moving out of the house they've lived in for decades.... even though it's only a house, it was a firm fixture in my childhood memories, and seeing it empty for that last time was heartbreaking. My job- even though I was glad to be out from that job, it still pretty much stinks to be laid off. And I really miss the people that I worked with.

But I guess the difference between December 31, 2009 and December 31, 2008 is that this time around... I know that life does in fact go on, as much as I hate that cliche. And even though this year has been difficult, there have been some pretty great moments too. I got the opportunity to return to Poland with Habitat for Humanity. I went to a counselor and started putting the pieces of my life back together. I moved- and even though the uncertainty of not having a job still weighs heavy on me... being here has been one of the best things I've ever done.

So as I'm thinking back on this past year, I guess it's been a balancing act mostly. A year of taking the good with the bad, and not letting myself fall back into that cycle of depression. 2008 taught me the painful lesson of grief, depression, and loss. But 2009 taught me how to discover the strength and grace to simply live through it. Because the reality is that you don't get a year "off" from unpleasant things happening. But how you deal with it is what defines you.

So come on 2010. I'm ready this time around.

Another Christmas here and gone...

It's winding down... another Christmas Day has come and is almost gone.

It doesn't feel like Christmas without Emily. Or at least, not like the Christmases I remember. It's different. Christmas has become a little quieter, a little softer, and yes... even a little bit darker in some ways. Christmas for me now comes in the soft glow of a candle in a darkened church sanctuary, listening to the singing of Silent Night. And the tears flowed again this year. Not the tears from a broken heart like last year. But tears of.... remembering. And longing. And even a little bit of healing.

And as I drove home from the midnight service last night, I took the advice of a friend and looked up at the Christmas Eve sky. She was telling me about her dad, and how sometimes she doesn't get the feeling that he's still with her. But that sometimes when she looks at the sky, she knows that he's still there. (I'm paraphrasing- she said it much more eloquently than I am.)

I get that feeling alot. For awhile there, I saw Emily everywhere I went. I heard her voice, followed her laughter, and caught a whiff of her favorite perfume. I dreamed about her all the time. For awhile I thought I was going crazy. And then it slowly stopped. I don't search for her in every store I go into. The sound of her voice is fading in my memory and it kinda breaks my heart. But the feeling of emptiness is somehow a little harder to handle.

But last night she didn't feel quite as gone. She was in the singing of the carols, in the beauty of the poinsettias, and in the light dancing on the icicles on the tree. And driving home in the early hours of Christmas morning, she was in the stars in the sky, the snow on the ground, and in the chill in the air. It's like that quote from Taylor Caldwell said... I felt less alone last night. And that was where I found beauty in Christmas.

Christmas Day will never be the same. But then again, nothing ever really stays that way. Christmas can't always be found in traditions. Or things. Or even people for that matter. But what doesn't change is the very heart of Christmas. The faith, the belief, the love, the joy, the promise, and the hope... that's Christmas Day.

People keep telling me that with each passing holiday, each year, each milestone it will get easier. Which I don't find to be true at all- at least not for me. I don't think you can measure grief in terms of easier or harder. I think each one is going to be different, in it's own way. Last Christmas was horribly painful. This Christmas season didn't hurt, but it was somewhat lonely, and tinged with alot of melancholy. Just like you can't measure how high up is, you can't measure grief.

You just have to take it as it comes, one day at a time.

But for this day, this Christmas, and in this moment... she doesn't feel quite so far away. And that's enough for me.


Merry Christmas.

Not alone

"I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses." ~ Taylor Caldwell

I thought this quote was beautiful. I needed to be reminded of that this morning. As my pastor friend says, "Satis Est". It is enough.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Winter Wonderland

It's amazing how quickly you adapt to your environment.

I. Am. Freezing!!

But it's really beautiful. We started seeing the first signs of snow about an hour outside of Charlotte. Just an occasional patch here and there. By the time we hit the mountains of Virginia, it was everywhere. It was a nice drive actually. I've never driven down interstate 81 and 77 in the winter, and the snow just transformed those mountains. But Rachel's reaction was the best part. When you've lived all your life in South Carolina, more than a dusting of snow is a big deal. It's funny how you take something like the beauty of snow covered fields and mountains for granted. I looked at it with different eyes yesterday. I was about the same age as Rachel is when we moved from Alabama to Pennsylvania, and I remembered how awed I was that first time it snowed and the grass actually disappeared. It was an awesome reminder to take time to slow down and really soak in the beauty of creation. (Figuratively slow down I mean. It was me driving after all.)

It was dark by the time we finally pulled into Greencastle, so I didn't get a good look at the snow. But now I'm sitting at the kitchen table, looking out the window at a postcard-perfect scene. Mom is making a stew that smells fantastic. It's Christmas Eve and I feel.... content.

Pretty soon I'm going to wake Rachel up. The postcard perfect scenery is in desperate need of a good snowman or two.

It's not the same without you ~ Wordless Wednesday

Heading home for Christmas

Rachel and I are leaving for Pennsylvania in the morning.

Honestly, I have some mixed feelings. I'm very much looking forward to seeing my family, my pets, and going to my beloved Christmas Eve services. I'm excited that Rachel is coming with me- it'll be nice to have some company on the way up. It's really cute how excited she is about going with me. (She still seems to think I'm cool. Go figure.) Rachel is at that age where she so very much wants to be a grown up. She's 14 going on 24, know what I mean? But when she heard that PA got almost 2 feet of snow, there was that little girl again, jumping up and down and wanting to know if we could make a snowman when we get there. I'm thrilled that I'll be with my family, and that Rachel will be there, but sad that we won't be with Laurie on Christmas Day. I wish it were possible to be in two places at once.

I'm anxious to go home... and yet in some ways I'm not. Because Christmas makes me think of Emily. And I miss her desperately. It's been very easy to avoid thinking about her. Lauren and Rachel's decorations and traditions are not my decorations and traditions, therefore they are "safe". I don't see Emily everywhere I look.

Going home is different.

Home means Emily's macaroni wreath she made in kindergarten and the picture she colored on the refrigerator. Home means fighting over whose turn it was to move the mouse in the advent calendar and covering your tracks in the chocolate chip cookie dough. Home is the ornaments on the Christmas tree and endless hints about what's hidden in the brightly wrapped packages. Home is memory, and sometimes memory hurts.

But yet that's what I've been missing the most. Memories. The same thing that hurts is also the same thing that brings comfort. Memories can be painful, but forgetting is heart breaking. And I remember her most at Christmas.

I feel like this is such a depressing post for it being three days before Christmas. And I don't mean to be depressing... just honest.

I want it both ways. I want to remember and forget all at the same time.

Seven more days..... and I still haven't found my Christmas spirit. I've finished almost everything on my shopping list. I finally found the Post Office, and my cards are in the mail. My iPod is getting a workout playing my favorite Christmas albums. I even tried my hand at making mom's mint cookies. (they aren't as good as hers). I'm doing all the Christmas-y things, but my heart really isn't in it. I was at Kroger today and in the course of conversation with the cashier, told him I was going home to PA for Christmas. And I suddenly felt weirdly grown-up saying that. I'm now one of those people who travels home for the holidays.

I'm a little torn about Christmas, actually. I can't wait to see my parents. And I'm eagerly looking forward to the Christmas Eve service. Rachel is actually coming with me, and this will be the first time she's ever been to Greencastle. I'm excited for her to see my home, my cat, and for her to meet some of my friends. But Laurie is going to Savannah to meet her mom and stepfather, so we won't all be together at Christmas. And I'll admit- that's got me a little bummed.

But beyond the outer trappings of Christmas..... I still don't have that excitement. Or even the depression that I did last year. This time, it's almost like an apathy. And I think feeling nothing is somehow worse than feeling something. Even if that something is unpleasant.

Wintersong

I'm not usually a sad Christmas song kind of person. That song they play on the radio about the Christmas Shoes leaves me bawling my eyes out. The words and message are beautiful... but still....

But the one exception is this song by Sarah Mclachlan. The first time I heard it, all I could think about was Emily. And so when I miss her most, I play this song. And even though it's such a melancholy song- it fits inside that melancholy hole in my heart that is Emily.


The lake is frozen over
The trees are white with snow
And all around
Reminders of you
Are everywhere I go

It's late and morning's in no hurry
But sleep won't set me free
I lie awake and try to recall
How your body felt beside me
When silence gets too hard to handle
And the night too long

And this is how I see you
In the snow on Christmas morning
Love and happiness surround you
As you throw your arms up to the sky
I keep this moment by and by

Oh I miss you now, my love
Merry Christmas, merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas, my love

Sense of joy fills the air
And I daydream and I stare
Up at the tree and I see
Your star up there

And this is how I see you
In the snow on Christmas morning
Love and happiness surround you
As you throw your arms up to the sky
I keep this moment by and by

An Alexander Kind of Day

So it's officially been an Alexander kind of day. As in the book- "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day". One of those days where a whole bunch of little things go wrong, and even though it's not that big of a deal.... by the end of the day you're left wanting to throw your arms up in the air and just say the heck with it.

I started off by waking up at 4am and wasn't able to go back to sleep.

My Christmas cards still haven't been mailed because I need stamps. I got lost trying to find the post office. Never did find it. Cards are still in the car.

None of my clothes fit anymore.

I can't afford to buy clothes that do.

And it's not like I have anywhere to wear them anyway.

Tried to use my new Wachovia card at Starbucks today and the card wouldn't work. And of course the place was busy. And people were giving me "that look". Very embarrassing.
Turns out I forgot to activate the card.

Dropped a box on my toe.

I have terrible cramps. (Sorry guys..)

Spilled a glass of water all over Lauren's coffee table and got a bunch of her papers soaked.

Went to the store to buy a memory card and discovered when I got home that I bought a card adapter instead.

And then to top it all off.... I locked myself and Rachel out of the house tonight. In the dark. In our pajamas. In the cold. Yes, South Carolina does get cold. Lauren was at band practice and we couldn't get ahold of her. Our neighbor with the key wasn't home. We ended up having to call Laurie's dad to come over with the key.... and he was not happy with us at all. I felt terrible. After we sat out there for about half an hour, Rachel suddenly remembered she had a house key on her school badge which was in her pocket. Luckily we discovered that before Uncle John drove all the way over. But I still felt embarrassed and really, really stupid. I hate having people mad at me. :(

And now I can't sleep. I miss Emily, I'm bummed because I don't have a job, I'm starting to get a little worried about money, I'm irritated because I can't afford to get Christmas presents like I usually do... and...and...and....

I'm whining.

Seriously.... the only good thing about these kinds of days is when they're over.

Here's to tomorrow being a better day.

What happened to the joy?

I love Christmas.

I am slowly discovering though, that it is a different kind of love then when I was a child. Like most kids, to me Christmas meant presents, trees, Santa Claus, and mom's cookies. (Specifically her chocolate mint-frosted cookies, which are hands down the absolute best cookies. Ever. Seriously. Like, so good I hid them when she started putting together plates to give the neighbors. Christmas meant sharing. But not when it came to those cookies.)

And I'll admit, when I was a kid the thing I probably loved most about Christmas was the presents. Wondering what was hidden in those colorful boxes, what wonderful surprise was concealed underneath the tissue paper, and what would be waiting from Santa on Christmas morning.

And I wonder- is that really such a bad thing?

Alot of my joy even now is in memories of those Christmases when I was a child. Remembering counting off the days on the Advent calendars. The way our house constantly smelled of cookies. Being surprised when I opened my lunch box and discovering mom had sent a small container with a spoonful of leftover mint icing. Singing along to Christmas carols, and hunting for where mom had hidden the "stash of stuff" this year. (Even though I never peeked, there was still a thrill just in the knowing where it was.) Remembering lying there wide awake at 5:00 in the morning, willing the minute hand to speed up until that magical 6:00 hour when we were finally allowed to get up. And then the squeals and exclamations and shouts of joy as those boxes were finally unwrapped.

Now, as an adult, Christmas has a deeper meaning- one beyond the joy that comes from circling the pages of a toy catalog, gazing at store window displays, and dreaming up letters to Santa. I find joy in the familiar Christmas songs and beloved carols. I find peace sitting in a darkened room lit only by the glow of Christmas lights. I find comfort in the memories, and solace in knowing that Christmas goes beyond anything that can be bought from a store, or ordered over the internet.

But yet, why does Christmas seem to lose some of its magic as we grow up? What happens to it, to that joy, and where does it go? We feel guilty for anticipating what's in that pretty box because "that's not the reason for the season". Stress replaces anticipation, endless to do lists makes Christmas seem like a chore rather than a celebration, and when you smell Christmas cookies you also simultaneously imagine the numbers on the scale reading 20 pounds heavier. Christmas merchandise is making an appearance alongside the Halloween decorations, and the latest pop stars prancing around in nothing more than glorified Christmas colored underwear have the audacity to sing "O Holy Night". In some ways, I can completely understand how easy it is have the real joy of Christmas buried under the tinsel and trappings.

As adults, we're focusing on remembering the "reason for the season", admonishing that it's not all about the stuff, and aren't letting kids believe in Santa Claus. Yet it's not kids who are snapping at salespeople in the store, stressing about how on earth everything is going to get done, and bemoaning that Christmas always come too quickly. Instead of dealing with the unpleasant, we throw some more tinsel on it and pretend it's all okay. But what kind of joy is it if it has to be forced? If that's what remembering the reason for the season is all about- I think I'd rather go back to being seven and oblivious again.

I don't think there is a right or wrong kind of joy at Christmas. And there's no right or wrong place to find it. Whether it's found sitting in a church service or in a child's anticipation of Santa. In the stanzas of a familiar Christmas hymn or your 1st grader's debut as Rudolph in the school play. In the reading of the Christmas story or in watching someone you love open that perfect gift. It's found in the glow of the Christmas lights and in the grasp of a friend's hand. It's in the glue holding together a child's macaroni wreath and in the kind that binds together family and friends.

The commercialism of Christmas drives me insane. I hate that Thanksgiving gets lost in the shuffle, and as far as I'm concerned, a little of those inflatable lawn ornaments goes a long way. I struggle with buying gifts out of obligation and not from the heart. I eat Christmas cookies and can't help but count calories. And if I had my way, "Blue Christmas", "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree", and "Santa Baby" would be outlawed from every radio station there is.

But the great thing about joy is that if you really try- it surpasses all those things. So what if your neighbor has twenty inflatable musical lawn ornaments strewn across their yard? So what if your pants start to feel a little tight? So what if the relatives you haven't seen or talked to since you were five don't get a Christmas card? So what if "Blue Christmas" has been played for the fifth time in.... nope, wait. When it comes to Blue Christmas, there is no redeeming joy. Seriously- Worst. Song. Ever.

But you get what I mean. I wonder what would happen if we stopped trying so hard to make Christmas fit into our perfect molds of what it should be, and instead just let Christmas be what it was meant to be. A season of joy. Of hope. Of doing less and gaining more. I think we'd find that the magic of Christmas doesn't disappear as we grow up... it just needs the tinsel dusted off a little.

Christmas trees and memories

I've been trying to avoid really thinking about Emily lately. I seem to be falling back into the pattern of "if I don't think about, then it doesn't really exist." But you'd think after six months of therapy, it would have sunk in that the more you push things down, the bigger the mess when it all comes out. And it always does.

It started when we went to get our Christmas tree earlier this month. Lauren and Rachel get a real tree, which I was thrilled about. It was a different tradition than what I grew up with, so it was on the "safe" list. But when it came time to decorate, then I got the moody blues. Decorating the Christmas tree has always been my job. Emily hated decorating the tree- but every year she'd sit with me in the living room and keep me company while I did it. This year.... I was the one sitting and watching while Rachel decorated the tree.

But after that momentary bout of the blues, I haven't let myself think about her. Because if I do- I'm afraid I won't stop. And I don't want to put a damper on Lauren and Rachel's Christmas either. The only thing worse than actually being depressed at Christmas is having to deal with the person who is depressed at Christmas.

But Lauren knows me entirely too well. There's not much I can get past her. Most of the time I love it. Sometimes it's a real pain in the butt.

Last night we went out to do some Christmas shopping. It's kind of eerie how alike Rachel and Emily are in some ways. They have the same "all-about-me" mentality, the same dramatic flair, and the same inability to keep anything secret. While we were out, it was fairly obvious Rachel was trying to get my Christmas present without me noticing. And the harder she tried to be secretive, the more obvious she was. It's a good thing that I like to be surprised at Christmas and did my best to keep out of earshot- otherwise it would've been fairly easy to figure out what she was up to. Emily was the same way. She hated waiting for Christmas, and would inevitably give so many hints about presents she bought, that it didn't take much to figure out what it was.
Rachel was driving me absolutely nuts last night. She was poking us, teasing us, and wanted to buy every single thing she laid her eyes on. And then when it reached the point where all I wanted to do was shake her.... she held out her arms to hug me and said "I love you." I swear she and Emily were cut from the same cloth. Emily knew just how far to push you... and right when you were ready to explode, she'd do something to melt your heart. Rachel's like that in some ways.

So when we got home, I pulled out my photo album with the Christmas pictures of when Emily and I were little, and I simply sat and cried. And I realized what Jack had been trying to tell me throughout all of those counseling sessions- that the hurt really is never going to go away. And that you have to reach a place where you can acknowledge that, where you can process the emotions. Because not dealing with it, and pushing it down just makes it more painful when it eventually comes to the surface.

Wordless Wednesday ~ Rainy Days

Amused

After braving the crazy hordes of people at Wal-Mart on a Friday night (what were we thinking?!), Laurie and I decided to treat ourselves to a burger at Fudruckers for dinner. We sat at our table for about an hour, just goofing off and talking. Rachel is spending the weekend with her dad, so it was just us. I love that girl, but she definitely doesn't like to sit and linger. She's constantly on the go. So it was nice to be able to spend a little while just leisurely talking. As we were getting up to leave, one of the women at the table next to us asked Lauren how we were related. Before we could answer she asked if we were mother and daughter (poor Lauren!). Laurie was a good sport- we laughed and said, no- we're cousins. They told us we really resembled each other. I know Lauren wasn't wild about them thinking she was old enough to be my mother, but it tickled me that they thought we looked so much alike. :)

Interview time again....

I have a job interview tomorrow morning.

This time the only person I told was Lauren. I wasn't even going to tell her, but since she's the one that let me know about the job, I figured I should at least tell her. Last time I went on an interview, I told everyone- broadcasted it everywhere, and then I ended up not getting it. I'm not superstitious or anything like that, but I thought this time I'd keep it quiet.

The job is a position with DHL. Honestly, I'm not too wild about it. Sounds like they're interviewing a LOT of people. I sent an application on Monday, and by Tuesday they were already calling. They called me three times to try and schedule an interview. And the weird thing is that the position that I am interviewing for is for an Entry Writer. Which is totally not what I applied for, or even listed as an opening on the webiste. I don't even know what an entry writer for DHL is. But I figure it can't hurt to go, and see what it's all about. Who knows, it may be something really interesting. As long as I don't have to work weekends, and as long as the money is good... then we'll go from there. I guess that's one perk of the whole unemployment thing. It gives me a little wiggle room to find the right job, instead of having to take the first thing that comes open. And if nothing else, it's one more interview under my belt. And it gets me out of the house. Lately I feel like I'm just taking up space. *sigh*

So we'll see. I'm not going in with high expectations, so I'm not nearly as nervous as I was before. I have an idea of what I did wrong last time, so hopefully this time around I'll know what not to say. And who knows, this may just turn out to be a great opportunity, in spite of my pessimism. I'm learning that God has a funny way of making things happen in the ways we least expect it.

Christmas is coming

I can hardly believe that it's already December. Today is really the first day that reminds me of Pennsylvania December weather. It's rainy and cold. But even still-- I'll take the 48 degrees over the 28 degrees any day! I will admit, it still doesn't quite feel like Christmas yet.

Around this time last year I was a mess. I couldn't decide which was worse- facing Christmas without Emily, or not having Christmas at all. Everything was a reminder of what I had lost. But yet last year, I ended up finding solace in the Christmas Eve service. And that simple service ended up bringing more healing than I ever expected.

This year Christmas is different. We started hauling Lauren's decorations down from the attic this past weekend. The lighted wreath is up, the Christmas knick knacks are coming out, and now I even have a stocking on the fireplace. Lauren was insistent on putting out some of my decorations too, so we're using my Nativity scene. We're going to get the Christmas tree this weekend- a real tree, which I am giddily excited about.

But it isn't quite the same. The trappings of Christmas are going to look a little different this year. I'm a little bummed about money and not having a job. And yeah, I miss having an office to decorate, and I'm sad that I won't be singing in the choir's Christmas cantata. It's not the same familiar decorations I am used to, and the memories that go along with them. The cookies Lauren's making aren't the same as my mother's. And no one can decorate a house for Christmas quite like my mom. I am going back to Pennsylvania for Christmas- but not until the 23rd. It's fun being here and getting ready for Christmas with Lauren and Rachel, but yet it's different.

I think they call it... growing up.

But that being said- I don't have that overwhelming sense of dread and sorrow that I did last year. I still miss Emily more than words can say. And I still get teary-eyed when I think about that macaroni leaf. And I still feel guilty that for all those years I hung her godchild ornaments on the backside of the tree. And I know I'll wake up in the middle of the night Christmas Eve looking for her in the bed across from mine, and I can already feel the pang of sorrow when I remember she won't be there. But I won't let it debilitate me like I did last year.

But the most important part of Christmas is not tied up in any of those things. I learned that last year, and that's changed my perspective.

Aside from seeing my family again, I'm anticipating the Christmas Eve services the most. It's the one place I can let go of all the trappings of Christmas and embrace the true meaning. That's the one thing I have this year that I didn't have last year. This time when the memories grow dark and I find myself slipping into sadness, I have the memory of that candle-lit service to hang onto.