I haven’t spent Christmas with my parents in ten years. This was a decision I made after one particularly stressful Christmas trip from Oregon to Southern California in 2009. Travelling with young kids and family visits are always stressful, but add in surprise snowstorms and overflowing toilets and my love for Jesus and for my family were being intensely tested.
So every year around this time, I steel myself for a call from my parents. “Won’t you consider coming for Christmas this year? It would be the very best Christmas present you could give us.”
When I got an email from my dad asking us NOT to visit this Christmas, I knew this was no flippant request. His reasons? He and my mom are in their 80s. As I am typing, that seems like the age of an old person. But when you meet my parents, they do not seem old. They are active and funny and they don’t smell weird or eat Jello or go on cruises. But, yes, they are in the high risk age group and could potentially get very sick from COVID.
Also my sister is one-third of her way into chemotherapy for breast cancer. I want to give this appropriate space by saying that CANCER SUCKS A LOT. AND I also want to acknowledge how my sister is handling this LIKE A BOSS. Well, technically, she IS a boss, so……
Not that I was considering a visit with my parents, brother, and sister at this time regardless of this global pandemic. Christmas triggers a huge overwhelm of duty and obligation in me that brings on heaps of resentment and anxiety. Decorating? Yuck. Shopping? Double-yuck. Parties? Lawdamercy.
I love Jesus and I love my family, but I love them all much more on days that are not Federal Holidays or public observances. It’s actually quite a relief that all the typical social expectations are frowned upon this year. This makes me sound like a grump, doesn’t it? WELL, I’M NOT.
Okay, maybe I am. But surely I can’t be the only person with these feelings during this time of year. Am I? Please tell me I’m not.
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