Christmas Time Is Here

Most people love Christmas….well, I think they do.  Lots of shopping and presents and fun parties.  Family traditions and travel and being with the ones you love.  That’s what’s on the commercials, right?  Happiness and Cheer?

I have a hard time with Christmas.  Two years ago, on Christmas Eve my husband told me he wanted a divorce.  It was horrible…it was probably the worst day of my life.  I was in shock, I cried, I called my mom.  I called HIS mom.  I was angry.  I was sad.  I was completely and utterly devastated.  I knew things were bad…but I had hoped they would get better.   I just didn’t know how…

The next day was Christmas and we put on happy faces for the children, we watched them open gifts and I went about the pathetic facade of preparing a Christmas feast for us to share as a family – I made a turkey with all the fixings.  And when it was time to eat….I tried really hard.  But I couldn’t.  I went upstairs and threw up.  I have not eaten turkey since that day.

If you read my “How I Became Striking” post you know that my marriage was definitely on the skids but through prayer and patience, we were somehow – miraculously, by today’s standards – able to reconcile.  It is a choice that makes me very proud – it truly was the right choice – not just for me but for our family.  I truly believe that I am showing my two daughters that marriages may struggle but it doesn’t mean instant failure.

So….back to the point.  Christmas time is here.  And I am sad.  Because even though it’s been two years … I still remember how hard things were.  I still remember telling my husband that maybe a divorce was not the right decision and the look on his face – just a blank look that said, “I don’t love you anymore and I don’t want to work it out.”  I cried so many tears.  I was sick – I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, my husband – the man I trusted and loved and needed – told me I wasn’t good enough.   And even though he has spent the last year and a half trying to prove that he loves me and will never leave me again … I still remember.

Last year we went away for Christmas.  I couldn’t spend Christmas in our house where 2006 happened.  This summer, before our move to Wyoming we had a yard sale and I gave away (not sold…I’m talking FREE) all of our Christmas ornaments and our beautiful pre-lit Christmas tree.   They were no longer beautiful to me.  They were tainted and ruined but I smile when I think about another family enjoying that tree for the first time this year…

This year we are going away again.  We are going to see my mom in Georgia.  I need distractions at Christmas time and this year we will be helping to bring my stepfather home after his 3 month stay in the nursing facility.  He has not recovered as well as we hoped…his stroke has affected so much of his life – he can’t walk, he can’t talk, he is sad…  I know how that feels.

Going to Georgia will be very healing though.  My husband wants to go to the church there.  The church where I became “Striking”.  He wants to meet the woman that changed my life, Karen, the woman who told me to let go of him and trust God in this situation.  I want her to know that her words shaped my future and that my children have their daddy because she took the time to pray for me.

There is good and bad…and I’m trying so hard to see the good.  Today there are tears.  Tomorrow I’ll try to do better.

Grief…

I read an article in a magazine last night about a woman that had been through soooo much grief.  She lost two husbands – one to cancer and one to AIDS.  And her way of dealing with each death was amazing. 

She grew closer to her first husband; the one with cancer.  They didn’t have the best relationship to begin with but during his years-long fight with cancer they both started to lean on one another.  Their marriage turned around completely.  The second husband to pass – the one with AIDS – was a wonderful marriage from the beginning, they had wonderful communication and it just stayed that way through his final years as well.  She enjoyed every minute.  She savored those times when they just sat together – him napping, her crocheting. 

My husband and I had a good talk the other night and I apologized for taking my grief out on him.  He said he was running on hope that things would get better between us.  And I assured him that I was not going anywhere.  In fact, when I was feeling like I wanted to run – I was reminded of that wonderful song by Warren Barfield called “Love is Not A Fight“.  I love that song, I shared it with my myspace friends.  It is so beautiful and the words are so SOLID.   I recited lyrics from the song to my husband – and it was just a moment of real humility and selflessness.  Here is the song – listen and read the lyrics… 

My husband said he knew that he could feel sadness and joy at the same time – he was sad, but we both have hope.  We both have a commitment to eachother.  We’re doing a lot better.  I love my husband – I’m not going to let my grief distract me from the commitment I made to my marriage.   And we’re not who we were a couple years ago…we’re better.