Do I sound like a broken record when I say that there are Christmas years I find it hard to write about? Some years the grief is so raw and fresh that I am not sure how we managed to get through it, and looking back reflectively isn’t always a cheerful memory. However, I do have a story about Christmas 2001, the year Sue & Becky saved Christmas.
My mom passed in the summer of 2001, and my Matthew was born September 4. Then you know, September 11 was a bit of a downer nationwide. Rolling in to December I was making an effort. I had small children, I wanted to be sure that for Paul, (since he was old enough ultimate remember) he’d enjoy the season. I decorated the house to the nines. We had garland over all the windows, lights out front, and a perfect tree on the front porch. I made wreaths for all the bedroom doors. Matthew’s wreath had my silver baby cup, and both Paul and Matthew’s silver baby rattles. Paul’s wreath had ornaments from my childhood, and the wreath on Kathleen and my door had some of my mom’s earrings (the lost souls without a matching partner).
We had a wonderful party that year, and our home was filled with people we love. The menu was expansive and delicious. Everyone had a good time. Then after the party, after the prep, the expectation, the enjoyment, and the clean up, after all of that, then there was still Christmas.
A Christmas for the four of us. Just the four of us, no family guests, no friends from out of town, just the four of us. And it caught up to me. The loneliness, the longing for the people we loved just showed up and settled in. I’ve said I can drag my family through the holiday season? That year Kathleen was carrying me.
Then right before Christmas a box arrived from Sue & Becky. Who are Sue & Becky? Two of the most amazing loving women I’ve ever been lucky enough to know. My Mom was an only child, and she created a family wherever she went. Sue & Becky were her sisters in Tucson.
When my Mom went on hospice she went to Sue & Becky’s home. They took care of her at the end, and then took care of Jenni and me that summer. I know in my heart that no biological sisters could have loved and cared for my Mom more than they did. I don’t know what promises they made to my Mom but I know that after she was gone they looked after our family as though we were their own. My children call them Auntie Sue and Auntie Becky, and Jenni’s kids call them Gramma Sue and Gramma Becky. Hence; the grandmother aunties.
So a few days before Christmas a box came from Sue & Becky. The box said ‘Do Not Open Till Christmas’, so it went on top the TV hutch with the other gifts. To be honest, I probably forgot about it until Christmas Day.
As we opened presents at a leisurely pace, as Paul would open a gift, then want to play with it for 20 minutes or so before he was ready to open the next gift, I was feeling the pangs of sadness and longing. I knew that the phone wasn’t going to ring with a Christmas wish from my Mom. I knew it, but it always had before, so I was having a difficult time not expecting it. Eventually we got to the box from Sue & Becky. I don’t know what I expected, but certainly not what we got.
It was a 10 piece Santa band. 9 bell ringing soldiers and a Santa conductor. It plays 6 different holiday tunes. I’m not sure how else to describe it, but it made us laugh and brought so much joy and much needed silliness that day. I set it up on the buffet and let it play through lunch. I still giggle when I think about it.
We try and put it out every year, because it makes me smile, and reminds us of how much Sue & Becky love us. Sadly Becky passed this year, and we miss her terribly. This year when I put out the Santa band I’m going to remember how important silliness is, and be glad she and Sue helped remind me of that.
Do me a favor? Engage in some holiday silliness for me?
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