We found ourselves home on Thanksgiving due to illness, so to brighten my daughter's spirit, we decided to spent our day putting up the Christmas decorations - shortly after watching the Macy's parade.
She was thrilled, as she had already begun embracing the Christmas season with her friends.
We danced around the house as she played her newly-discovered favorite Christmas song, All I Want For Christmas Is You, and a few others by her chosen artists, such as Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. I embraced seeing her so joyful as we decorated her bedroom with a tree of her own. Days later, we added the pink, gold, and silver ornaments she picked out to the tree, and then I surprised her with red and green twinkle lights for her bed posts.
But since then, the Christmas spirit has been hard for me to find. Yesterday I even told one of my friends that I'm feeling very grinchy righy now, which is hard to admit as a Child Life Specialist working in a children's hospital and as a mother whose daughter is overfilled with magical innoncence and seasonal joy.
I've really tried to perk myself up by playing Christmas music, lighting holiday-inspired scented candles, watching a few Hallmarky movies, and partaking in the elf's simple movements around our house. They have helped a bit, but I really just can't seem to shake this festive funk.
At this point, I just don't know why I am feeling the way I do, or better yet how to change it.
Maybe I need a date in the city with Buddy the Elf to help my heart regrow back to its overly- empathetic size? Or a night out at a Christmas pop-up surrounded by red and green sweaters and Santa hats? Although my preference would probably be staying in a home environment, in comfy clothes, sipping on wine in front of a fire (indoors or out), and engaging in heartfelt conversations.
Where do I sign up for any of that?
Recently my daughter asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and immediately my mind started coming up with things that I couldn't say her outloud. Instead, after a few moments, I explained that Santa isn't really able to bring the kind of presents that adults would ask for. But when I realized that she wanted to know what she could gift me, I told her my regular go-tos, which she already knew from our infamous shopping trips: Candles, bottles of cheap Organic Cabernet Sauvignon, Twizzlers or gummy candy, and cozy clothes.
So saying that, what do I really need right now? What would my list to Santa look like?
I have the dog I always wanted, and the daughter I never knew I needed. So what do I really want/need now? Other than financial freedom, the rest of my list to Santa (and God) remains in my heart and silent prayers.
Anyone who really knows me is aware that I don't always put my true struggles into publishable words. But the truth is, the challenges are never-ending. There good days, and then there are the hard ones that most no one else knows the true details of.
And overall, every moment of every day is like visits from (Christmas) Past, Present, and Future.
Moments from the past are haunting, no matter how much you try to forget them and move on, and the future is impossible to imagine when everyday feels like your stocking is still filled with coal, despite putting in so much work and commiting with hope that your years-long hopes will arrive.
As for the present, as much as it's said to be a gift, sometimes it's just hard to really "live" when you're faced with a future of questions and uncertainty and unable to move from a past of heartache and pain.
This time of year also reminds me just how much I miss being back home in Pittsburgh during this time of year. I spent over three decades creating memories of Christmas morning with my parents and younger brother- with my daughter joining her first two holiday seasons- and the day's events being shared with grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles.
As kids we talked about our presents from Santa, played Nintendo and Scattegories, and ate too many knotted rolls, mashed potatoes, and cookies. During my years as an "adult", still at the kids' table but full of wine glasses and beer bottles, I enjoyed seeing the family that remained in Pittsburgh or other cities away from mine.
And now more than ever, I hold onto the cherished memories of baking dozens of cookies with my mom, watching my grandparents open their gifts, and experiencing the true magic of Christmas (once again) alongside my daughter and other new cousin additions during our holiday celebrations.
In sharing that, I'll add that I've chosen to stay in Chicago these last few years for reasons that only my parents and close friends truly know. But essentially, for the last few holiday seasons, I just didn't know if it was the last one that my daughter would be celebrating with her dad. And knowing how special this holiday is to experience through a child's eyes, I just couldn't take that away from either of them.
So here I am, feeling a little less grinchy since writing this post while listening to Christmas music and drinking a few glasses of wine. Maybe it's the few Hallmark movies I've watched, but something in me feels corny enough to say that what I really want is a like some form of a miracle.
Whether it's in the form of a serendiputous movie-inspired story come true or that always desired winning lottery ticket, my own version of a Christmas miracle is what I truly feel like I need right now.
So if I have to say a nightime prayer or write a letter addressed to the North Pole, let this be that. A Christmas Miracle. That is what I really want and feel I need.
Are those really real? Or do I need to figure out how to find an on-earth guardian angel or magical train to the North Pole?
I'm open to any and all suggestions at this point, anyone who knows a thing or two about real-life magic and dreams coming true.