“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” it’s the earworm that keeps running through my head. I am spending my first Christmas as a singleton. My mother is in the hospital getting well enough to come home and wind down her life. I lived through two major life stressors this year…divorce and a cross-country move. I lost a way of life, and had to find a new home and replace most of the most basic household necessities.
And yet, I am looking forward to this most wonderful time of the year more than I could ever have anticipated.
Already, I have begun a new tradition of my sister coming to help me decorate my tiny house. I am celebrating Christmas authentically in the Catholic tradition. I have my advent wreath with the three purple and one rose candles, lit with prayers. I will go to The Nutcracker, a tradition I tried to start in the west, but didn’t fly. I will visit two dear, dear friends from different periods of my life; two of those soul sisters that have helped me regain and sustain my personhood this year.
Waking up alone on Christmas morning will be different, but actually not so much.
And as the most wonderful time of the year approaches, I eagerly anticipate the joy and wonder of the season, the quiet devotion of the true meaning of the holiday, and the excitement for the days ahead.