A sad but blessed Christmas

This Christmas feels infinitely different. It is my eighteenth Christmas without my mum and my second without my dad. It is also my second Christmas without the both of them. There is an overwhelming sense of sadness that’s enveloping me. I feel the depths of the pangs of missing both papa and mummy. I never imagined my heart could be so broken. Let me say, though, that I am blessed. 

I’m going through a bit of a whirlwind. One day I hope I can write about it. Suffice to say that the messages going up and down are painful for various reasons. I’m not pleased with myself for having written and sent one message in anger. I know better than that. Christ should be the lens through which I view and respond to all problems. It’s been helpful to apologise for it and my next step is to make sure I’m remembering not to repeat this again. May God help me here. Saying this, a faithful brother has been going over and beyond to help me through this situation. He has been tireless in this. I’m in awe because I feel he has so much to deal with on an every day basis. It is clear to me that the energy he is displaying here is Christ-given. It has been a blessing to watch. I am blessed. 

Yesterday, a couple of my girl friends came over. These two were former colleagues and their willingness to come over and spend time here, chatting about all sorts really moved my heart. I’ve not put up the Christmas tree or any decorations. My home is definitely missing the festivity. I’m not feeling it now that my dad is no more. I miss my mum (I’ve not stopped missing her for the last eighteen years) and I miss my dad. Yet these two lovelies came with so much grace and my home felt full. It was a good feeling. I am blessed. 

Another cousin and his family arrived a little after my friends left. He too lost his mum. It was just two weeks after my dad had passed. It was a tough blow to the family. He mentioned how they also weren’t feeling too festive. We talked about this and we also recalled some old stories. Some of the tales of past were hilarious. It was hard to speak because of how hard we were laughing. We were reeling from loss, united in our faith, laughing at old stories, and looking forward to the future with the risen Christ. I am blessed. 

This morning, before I left for church, yet another cousin, Gamora’s fairy godmother, came by. It was a quick brekkie because I was running off to church and a short choir practice for the Christmas Eve service. I’d been a bit worried about leaving Gamora alone but that wasn’t to be. Gamora’s fairy godmother arrived to be with her, bringing her a rather lovely present – a giant ball. My little one’s joy is obvious. The guttural sounds she makes when she plays with the ball is a dead giveaway. She loves it. For me, it was just a sense that she was alright at home. I am blessed. 

I cannot handle Christmas parties at the moment. Yet, I am thankful and joyful for the birth of Christ and what it means. Everything will be okay in a way that I cannot even imagine. No more pain. No more tears. How’s that going to be? It’s beyond me. I don’t want to mope, and I’ve been thankful for my visitors. I’ve also been thankful for the opportunities to do stuff at church. It was lovely attending a Christmas guest nite with a friend, where talks and a fabulous choir brought the magic of Christmas to life. It was lovely watching old friends coming together in this Christmas season a week later, when I was privileged enough to accompany one of them to a special event. It was lovely watching some close old friends come together for a Christmas lunch that a good friend of mine organised. I loved hearing these ladies (closer to the nineties) sharing their stories. A couple of them shared their love for dogs. Now they’re waiting to meet Gamora. I’m thankful to sing with such a fabulous choir at Christmas Eve. The practice today, led by a dear friend, was lovely. I was also grateful to visit an uncle and aunt for a Christmas present drop-off and pick up. It was followed by a lovely lunch with another girl friend. Gosh, how we chatted! So many things coming together in special ways which aren’t too overwhelming for me right now. I am blessed. 

I miss my father and my mother more than I can say. I’m tearing up as I write this because I miss them so much. I miss my home as it used to be. I’d take it all again – good times and bad. I’ve cried some painful tears these past few weeks as Christmas approaches. My favourite season feels hard to bear. I had wondered if I would feel empty, but I don’t. I’m in pain because of this grief, but I’m not empty. In fact, I am blessed. 

So I want to say a big thank You to God. He put all the right people in my path, at the right time. Not only did I get a wonderful gift through the coming of Christ at the first ever Christmas, there is continued providence and grace at a level that I cannot aptly describe, except that it is perfect. In recent times, my favourite king David’s Psalm 23 has been on my mind a lot. The first verse tells me that I shall not want because the LORD is my shepherd. That is swiftly followed by a picture of green pastures and still waters. How that happens when you walk through the valley of the shadow of death is hard to imagine. But I am in a valley. I am in a valley where I’m at the lowest I have ever been, without both my mother and father. I am facing a challenge, where I sometimes wonder if the others in play are enemies. It feels like it. Yet, I am blessed. How can I say this? It is clear to me that I am receiving comfort through God’s Word, which does hold me true to certain things (hence the apology for my angry message). I am also comforted by this same Word. The reminder of my Saviour in the language of a shepherd caring for me. He has lined my days with all the right people and conversations that have been helpful and uplifting. So I am convinced that even as I navigate this valley, that goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever. 

Papa and mummy- I miss you.