Gold Christmas Trees
I likely wrote about this last year too, but this is the time of year when I freeze up in the aisles at Target. Why?
Because I feel at a loss at whether or not to buy a(nother) mini-Christmas tree for Macy. We have one at home for her that is lavender with lights and mini Hello Kitty ornaments (of course). But I usually get one for her and Lola and Lolo for the cemetery, and I can never remember how many we salvaged from the year before.
Typically I will end up buying a tree and ornaments and garland anyway. Because I want to buy those things before they run out AND because I want to feel like I’m celebrating Macy too during this season of over-consumerism. And—lest you think that I’m being cynical—I one hundred percent join in on that over-consumerism.
This year, unlike other years, Mr. Bookworm answered the phone when I was headed toward the seasonal items at Target. His immediate answer?
Yes. Buy one. Buy ornaments. Buy extra garland.
Because he knows I’ll vacillate forever and STILL buy these things.
Why do I buy them?
Because it makes me feel better. It makes me feel happy.
And it makes me even happier to know that my husband is still the patient and supportive partner that he has always been. And, clearly, that he knows his wife well.
When we go to decorate Macy’s garden this year, I’ll still feel sad. But I’ll also feel blessed and lucky and torn apart because we are still a family.
And though we still grieve, we also celebrate each other.
Every holiday season, I like to offer ‘selfish’ holiday wishes for those of us who have lost someone special this year, especially if that someone special was a child. I wrote about these ‘Selfish’ holidays in previous years and the same extends for this year:
Even though Macy is not physically here with us, she is always in our hearts. And, this Christmas, I’m filled with so much gratefulness for how full my life is right now. It’s a far cry from four years ago—while my life was thankfully just as full of love, my heart was still grieving. I’m grateful that my loved ones allowed me to have that grief and support me through it.
This holiday season I urge you to do whatever it is you need to do to make it through for yourself. Meet with others or hide out in your house, decorate your tree with memories of your little one, or don’t put up a tree at all. Go to a special place for you. Grieve if you need to grieve, or celebrate if you need to celebrate. Be selfish. You deserve it.