Christmas…..if only it and life were perfect.
Christmas is my season of stress. My life gets lit up with a high level of expectations and is decorated with craziness. I also yell a great deal during this season of “joy“. Christmas is when my desire for perfection rears it’s ugly head and I am full on face to face with the reality that my “merry” is actually “messy“.
I had this revelation this year when the first happy family photo Christmas card arrived. You know the card. It’s the one of the beautiful family that has carefully crafted a visual image of “look at us, we are so happy and we never fight and have great adventures every day“. Think Instagram images on steroids. Gag. Photo shopping and editing is truly a Christmas sport.
When I first looked at the greeting, I read “Be Messy“. I laughed! Brilliant! But wait. I put my readers on and was sad to read the usual “Be Merry” message. Shame. I grooved the dichotomy of the perfect photos and the messy sentiment.
IF I were to put a photo to depict my life on the front of a card, it might look like this:
Why does Christmas make me so crazy? I think it’s because it culminates my deep seeded insecurities of not being enough; of not getting life “right” and I am incredibly guilty of comparative envy. Christmas is when I believe that if I could make it “perfect“, then I could make amends for my other failings. If my tree is ideal, the baking done just right, cards written, gifts articulately chosen and I could find matching PJ’s then it might make up for the fact that I constantly feel “less than” and run on a hamster wheel in hopes of mastering what it is to be a “success”. When I sprint on my hamster wheel, I often fail to recognize that while I run fast, I’m in the same spot and what is lost is paying attention to those people who really matter. I rush when I need to stop and listen to those that I love. I am skewed to think that the “perfect” Christmas gift and an afternoon of crafts would be my atonement. Except that it’s not. How do I know? My “never fail fudge” always fails. It’s a sign.
This Christmas was no different in many ways except for some significant moments that have forever changed me.
True to form, getting the tree was epic. Our youngest son Owen opted to be in charge of choosing the tree. This involves heading out into the forest and choosing one. In the forest, things seem smaller. The first clue might have been when he needed to come get the truck to pull the tree out of the forest and then drag it 2 km home. Owen. Our living room is not 40 feet high. The chain saw came out and things made smaller to fit.
It’s a spiral down from there. The tree won’t stay up. We need to call in an engineer (aka my husband with duct tape, industrial string and ingenious means of ensuring balance). The snow globe collection is put up and then taken down (too tacky per family input). I put it back up. A dictator doesn’t take “no”.
Invitations are sent out to the annual Open House. We are happy to be expecting a large crowd. On the day of the party, the temperature dips to a mere -25 C (-15 F). No problem. Just build a bigger bonfire. What is a problem is that the septic is having a tantrum. Fingers crossed that it won’t be a problem. It was a problem. Nothing like asking guests to use the “outdoor facilities“. Christmas. If only it was perfect.
The soiree was fun. People laughed in good humour at our predicament and the band played on.
We took the challenge in stride although when the mercury plunged to -38 C (-34 F), the outdoor loo became more epic than just challenging.
Our life is messy despite my best efforts. I hope that Christmas shields our imperfections when in fact, this Christmas blew the doors off any sense of illusion. It wasn’t just loo issues and otherwise, we were having a season of “firsts” that caused us to deeply reflect.
The first “first” was learning that our eldest son (Aiden) wasn’t able to come home for the holidays due to his shift work. He is an electrical engineer at a mine in Alaska and works three weeks on and three weeks off. As much as I wasn’t a fan of the schedule, it seems that his work environment didn’t recognize my dictatorship status in Clearwater and they trumped me.
Our second “first” was more of a challenge. Megan, our daughter, has a very nice boyfriend. They’ve been quite smitten for a couple of years and this year she came to us and asked the dreaded question…. “Mom, you know how I loved Christmas last year and being with the whole family but I missed Adam”. “His family is going to Mexico and they asked me to come. Can I go?“. She is 24 and it was rather sweet that she asked. My first reaction was “HELL NO“. This was a reasonable response given that when we noticed her relationship was getting a bit serious, I was proactive and confirmed holiday commitments. Adam got Halloween and Valentine’s Day. We got the rest and that included Christmas.
I was tempted to remind her of the holiday contract but refrained and put on my game face and said “Of course! What a wonderful opportunity!“. If you thought I gagged at the perfect family Christmas card, you should have seen me gag over my hypocrisy.
And there it was. My husband and I along with our youngest, sat around the Christmas tree that had been lovingly pulled, dragged and fought over. It was nicely decorated. The lights shone bright, the stockings were full but our people were missing and no amount of effort of perfection was going to change that the things that matter are the people who matter.
It’s a message that has been echoed over the past few months. While the above were “firsts” as our children start to adult, there was another first moment that I will never forget.
My husband has been struggling with some health issues post COVID. My remedy for any ailment is “change your sheets, have a shower and take a walk“. My name tag will never read Florence Nightingale. You have to understand that my husband is one of the heartiest people I know. He would carry us all barefoot over open fire if anything happened. He is strong, fearless and the one I count on to get us through everything and anything. I took these attributes for granted and when he came home one night and sat me down, my life changed forever. It was the first time I realized that time was finite.
Wayne came home after speaking to the doctor and sat me down. I was a little scared and then he said it. “I’m not going to sugar coat it, here it is straight. I have leukemia”.
The glass fell, my heart split open and all that I held safe and secure shattered. The invincible man suddenly became human and I felt my grip on life slip away. To quote Anna Quindlen, there are “before” and “after” moments. I realize the significance of this statement. Before he told me, I was complacent. After he told me, I was changed and nothing will ever be the same. Complacency is not an option.
While his diagnosis was shocking to us, we are not alone. Millions of people hear this news and learn to live with cancer. Our family has just joined the many. We carry the burden knowing that time is short and not to be wasted. He may have many years or he may have less. We don’t know. Our task is to reframe how we live. I have read a million self help books on how to live a better life and I have a zillion different quotes but nothing has motivated towards change more than hearing the word “leukemia“. Full stop.
So what now? We saw the oncologist and he explained that my husband will be treated when he needs to be treated; when his blood levels are too low, when his lymph nodes grow to a size that cause pain. I suggested an analogy that it was like acne and you just treat when needed. The doctor rightly looked at me like I was an idiot and said “it’s cancer and we will treat him when he needs treatment”. Right. Not acne; something you die from. Avoiding reality is real. Just ask the Christmas season.
So here we are. Full circle to the Christmas season. For years, I have been living in a form of comparative narrative and wanting to “get it right“. It’s so silly. Even my Priest thinks so. He gave a sermon on Christmas and reminded us that the first Christmas was actually chaos and crisis. Mary and Joseph couldn’t find a room, traveling on a donkey and once Mary gave birth, a guy named Harod wanted to kill her baby. How did we progress from that to Better Homes and Gardens top ten tips on how to create the perfect Christmas?
This Christmas I gave up my comparative narrative and I focused on what and who mattered. The cards are unsent, the baking didn’t get all done and I was ok that only half the tree was decorated. These are baubles; what mattered was the people we saw, the personal exchanges that deepened our connections. Offers of help and assistance were beautiful gifts to receive.
And what does this mean for 2023? I have to get serious about what a real life means to me. I’ve been guilty of feeling that I had “time” and have conveniently avoided doing things that I wanted to do in place of things that I felt I “should” do. I have played “small” thinking that I had “time” to do more. Maybe I do and maybe I don’t but maybe I should have another think. How do we want to live and what do we want to do?
Each year I have made “casual promises” and found escape routes so that I didn’t have to fully commit. Now that I am living in the “after“, I have to rethink that drink. My inner compass is craving a course correction.
How do I feel about the perfect family and their Instagram photos? I feel that these are the moments that matter; it’s glimpses of time that give us joy and extend protection when the messy moments of life try and take us down. When we are fighting the rough stuff, it helps to close our eyes and sink down into warm moments of memories that give us comfort; like being enveloped by a warm blanket and feeling the sun shine on our face. The Christmas cards with the perfect moments are just that….. perfect moments that we want to share. While we all have our messy, we can revel in the moments that illuminate the magic of what it is to be alive. Snap shots of happiness that keep dark moments at bay.
This diagnosis has given me deep pause to reflect. What adventures do I want to look back on? What memories do I want to see on our Christmas card? What do I need to do to deepen my relationship and connection to my husband? What is our best lived life if we threw away the rules and made up our own game? What dreams live inside of us and what is the candle in our hearts that is ready to be lit? What is the whisper that needs to become the roar? It is time to feel alive and not just live.
I won’t make resolutions but I do vow to make changes. My new t-shirt will read “No is a complete sentence“. (that makes me laugh.). I often do things because I think I should and it fits the narrative of being a good person. God how I have cluttered my life with senseless gestures.
My new mantra will be to do more of what brings me joy. My new commitment is to family, friends and creating more memories that matter. And lastly, I commit to me and being more of me and less of what I think I should be.
When we first learned of the diagnosis, I admit that I heard a death sentence. It took me through Christmas to realize that what we have been given is a second chance. The opportunity to live and to live with fullness and without hard edges. We have discovered a new freedom. I have to wonder if on some level we haven’t just been living a slow death. Hearing the word “leukemia” has shaken me out of mediocrity and forced me to look at this new found gift.
This is not to say that I plan to take up sky diving with my husband rather, I am going to hold his hand more. I am going to overlook the clothes that he doesn’t hang up and pay more attention to when he fixes things and I can say thank you. I am going to sit on the porch more often and sometimes just stay silent so that we can just be together. I am going to deepen my commitment to living authentically and without pretense. Lastly, I am going to stop playing small and thinking that “someday” I can do it. Someday is going to be sooner and yes, there will be a re-evaluation of dreams in the “one day” box. For example, Wayne wants to paddle the Yukon River this summer. That’s never been on my bucket list but this year it is on my adventure list. The Christmas card moments; not to brag but to treasure when time has past and the clock has stopped. I don’t want “things” to hold onto, I want more memories that fill my heart.
And that’s that. I am blessed with gratitude and appreciate the people that fill my heart with joy and hold my hand when there is hurt. I can’t do matching PJ’s but I can build more pause into life so that I am more fully present and can give more time to those that matter. I’ve been busy. There’s room to improve.
Most of all, I want to start listening to my heart and run in that direction. Too often I dulled the roar in place of serving as wife, mother and other. I realize that it is not one or the other, it can be both.
To each of you, I hope you don’t wait. Start now. Start small or large. Whatever fits your comfort zone. Change might be inspired by a bumper sticker but my wish for you is that when your heart craves change, you jump with abandon in anticipation of living a life you love, even when its messy.
With love and best wishes for 2023,
Shelley
And Then I Jumped...... 