I'm feeling resistant to the holiday season this year.
My aunt, who has been killing herself with cigarettes for 40+ years has been in and out of the hospital over the last few weeks with cancer and complications of the treatment. Since moving to Arizona, she and I have had a holiday tradition of baking our tushes off this time of year (and eating WAY too much of our creations); we didn't get to do that this year (thankful for the calories saved).
The man I love, who I thought would be with me celebrating this season as a family, took a side trip down Indulgence Lane and sidelined our plans for the future.
Boo hoo. Poor me.
I believe in angels. Not the kind that have wings and flutter around all pretty and graceful, but earthly forms.
I received an e-mail from an unexpected angel last night - someone who lived a block away from me when I was growing up. I won't share the details of it because he shared it in confidence, but he reminded me to think about what matters. I know it is a simple, obvious and common-sense answer to my plea for help, but sometimes we get so caught up in our own self-absorption, self-pity that we forget the obvious.
Here is what my friend wrote:
"The joy I get from Christmas is not from the revelry; it's from the peace. The joy is an extension of that peace."
Here is my Christmas peace: My aunt has been given a respite from her suffering. She is home and able to move around and talk and laugh. "It turns out cigarettes cause cancer," she said, jokingly. She is well enough to being cancer treatments next week, and her will-survive attitude brings tears to my eyes.
The love of my life is fighting for his own life with a new determination that I have never seen. He's beautiful and strong and determined to be with me next Christmas, and I am proud of him.
Other reasons to be grateful:
- My son, who is the light of my life, is healthy, happy, and a constant source of joy.
- My friends who are beautiful inside and out and share wisdom daily and help me Keep It Real.
- My family. My eccentric mother, my wise father ... and all the kookiness ... smooches and hugs to them all.