Dear Diary, Dec 26, 2025
There’s just so much that I want to write about today.
Please forgive the all too many reflections. I am hoping that perhaps you will find some solace within my words as I have done on this day.
First, the things that didn’t happen this holiday season carried much more weight than I had expected. A visit from a loved one that unfortunately was postponed really hit hard this particular year.
Daydreaming and yearning to see a relative filled my many weeks before Christmas. Then came the acceptance that this visit would have to wait for another time. The older I get, the heavier these disappointments have become.
Then there was the chair that remained empty this year for a relative who passed just a few days before Christmas. Life had been kind and then the shift came and it was their time to move on. The emotional weights were heavy but it was his children’s bravery that had helped me to accept the loss as they had.
A tradition, ever so quietly, disappeared this year as well. I hadn’t even seen this one sneak up on me. Suddenly, the holiday events that I had always identified with Christmas eve gatherings, filled us with all the heightened anticipation of the younger kids, tracking Santa with Norad, and the traditional reading of the Night Before Christmas were abandoned.
It was decided, but not necessarily agreed on, to gather with the family on one of the two celebratory days…not both.
So, up went my hand to offer to host, and before I knew it the gang arrived on Christmas day and we packed the moments with gift giving, great food and poof snap, it was over.
I doubt there will be a re-connection to the previous holiday planning that would’ve included the two day event again…so I’m just going to hold those memories in my heart going forward now.
There’s a quiet that descends as the last of the guests leave on Christmas day. The silence can feel increasingly louder especially after all the chatter of anticipation has quieted down.
I have taken to walking around the house, room by room, and just listening and recalling the sounds that had just filled those spaces throughout the day. I hope my grown children will take those moments now, before their children are older, to listen…to cherish…and to hold tight in their hearts those special times.
The gifts that didn’t come in boxes were perhaps the most appreciated of all this year.
For me, it was finding the patience to let the day unfold in a much more hurried way than I would’ve anticipated.
Then came the forgiveness and the invisible truce that unfolded between those who declared their positions in this world that had taken on such stark differences…all held a degree of truth.
The white flag was raised and the love between all was evident.
A great gift they gave to each of their offspring as well.
A shared blessing at meal time carried a true warmth and respect for each other's beliefs.
Finally, the best gifts of all were the smallest of moments.
A loving look between us as the grandparents that conveyed the pride we each shared for this gathering being of our own making, oh so many years ago.
Listening to the laughter between the youngest of our brood who cherished every discovery hidden within the biggest of boxes that carried their name on the tag.
A resurrection of a memory shared by our eldest who spoke of times with my own parents who began these traditions…we never realized until that moment how impactful those times had been.
In retrospect, it was the smallest of moments that will wrap around my heart this year and will bolster my belief that regardless of who, what, where or when we celebrate there is true love that surrounds us.
Pat Larsen is a syndicated columnist who lives, works, plays and prays in Greene County, NY with her husband of 52 years.
Please let Pat know if you have a story you’d like her to write about.
Call her at 518-275-8686 to chat.
0 comments:
Post a Comment