It’s December now.

I spent most of November getting back into the flow of things and I decided to start Christmas early. I’ve always been very anti-Christmas until AFTER Thanksgiving. Unpopular opinion: I hate Christmas music. It’s only acceptable on Christmas Day and I guess Christmas Eve too (insert eyeroll). I love Christmas, don’t get me wrong. But…. Thanksgiving first.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Food and family. My 2 favorite things. I’m so damn sentimental and nostalgic about the traditions I continue with my family. The same traditions that started before I was born. Trigger warning… but I had a picture-perfect childhood. Really. And I am beyond grateful for it.

BUT my daughter mentioned early in November that she wishes we didn’t have to wait for December 1st to put the tree up.

I made that “rule”. So I can preserve Thanksgiving.

I set a parameter that I’ve stuck to for so long. But why. You guys! WE get to decide how these things look in our homes. I sat with it for a minute after her comment, and then I said, “We don’t”. We can have both traditions simultaneously. Maybe it’s the neurodivergence here, lots of black and white thinking going on. As I continue to accept the grey and live in it, I am constantly opening myself up to more.

A friend of mine talked about a similar experience, about the same time I had decided to open the door and welcome “the holidays”. So I know I’m not the only one here thinking like this.

You know what happened when I brought that tree up and all the boxes of decor? My kids faces lit up. Little sis decorated the tree and I didn’t let my OCD interfere 😉 Although, I did explain symmetry and balance. She aced it.

We started the magic early. Why wait. I’ll tell you.

Let’s pivot to grief for a minute. In my head, one thing at a time makes the grief easier. This includes, not having Beck here, not having a nuclear family, doing this alone. Holidays are hard. When big changes happen, they serve as reminders of what was and what is now. That’s hard.

I’d also like to set a common myth straight. Suicide rates are NOT higher during the holidays. In fact, throughout the year, December actually ranks last for number of self inflicted deaths.

It also makes me wonder if that myth was born out of the grief lots of us feel during this time of year. Makes sense to me.

Grieving losses, family dynamics, what “could” or “should” be stings a bit more during a time to be grateful. And that’s okay. Remember, we are souls having a human experience. It’s part of it all. We sit with it. We feel it. We persist. Making new memories doesn’t negate the past. Making new memories is an opportunity to honor the past.

We will always include Beck in Christmas. His stocking hanging with the rest. Santa even brings him some of his favorite goodies, that his siblings get to split. On Christmas Eve, we put letters to him, in his stocking, for Santa to deliver to heaven. Keeping him involved as much as we can. Do I sit in my closet reading them bawling my eyes out? Absolutely. But it’s good. I get to sit with him and the words on those pages. The first year, I was angry. I made myself read the letters, almost as a form of torture. Now, I look forward to the time I get to take. I can feel his presence in that moment. I know he sits with me on the floor of my closet, while I’m wishing he was sleeping in his bed. Thinking about him bounding down the stairs Christmas morning. His curly head falling asleep early on Christmas day because he’s sugar wasted.

There’s no manual for this, because there is no one size fits all, but I will never stop trying my best.

Despite it all. Despite all of the dark and ugly. I wouldn’t trade lives with a single person on this earth. The depth at which I feel my feelings, the depth of love I have in my body, the vivid memories I carry, the way my weird brain works, all of it… I am grateful. I would have traded with almost anyone while I was going blind. I had days I was angry that I woke up. It felt like it was just adding insult to all of the other darkness I was trudging through.

I really had this moment recently that changed my view on so many things. I let myself have a pity party. Something we’re not “supposed” to do. But my kids were gone for the weekend. I was feeling lonely and inside my head and decided it was a good time to just feel that. I let myself cry really hard and get angry and yell swears and feel despair over all I’ve lost. And then the clarity came. Truly. It was crystal clear.

I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

I repeated over and over until I realized I felt it. It wasn’t something I was manifesting. It wasn’t an affirmation. I really feel that way. I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

The pity party I threw myself ended in something so beautiful.

I want that for everyone. Inner peace.

If the holidays aren’t easy for you, let yourself take some time to feel the uncomfy, sadness, anger, whatever it is for you. Just. Don’t. Live. There. It’s part of “the work”. Ya know, the construction site starts out pretty messy, but the more work we put into it the more you see the vision and then eventually the house is exactly how you want it. You get to decide what each room looks like, you get to decide who comes in and out of the front door. That’s peace. That is joy.

Happy Holidays 🙂