This past Sunday Heidi Stevens, a columnist with the Chicago Tribune, wrote about her memories of Christmas trees as a divorced mother and how holidays don’t always look the way you think they should. It inspired me to think back on a particular Christmas about 10 or 12 years ago.
While in college, our daughter was dating a delightful young man whose family lived in a Chicago suburb about 45 minutes away from us. On this particular December, his mother had passed away fairly recently and his father and brother were both out of town. So he ended up staying mostly with us. I will call him J in this post.
Well, we don’t celebrate Christmas. Our family is Jewish. (Full disclosure, I was raised Lutheran but converted. This background turned out to be a plus in this situation.) J was obviously sad, and none of us blamed him for feeling that way. We knew there was no way we could create a Christmas like the one he was missing. But we wanted to do something. I bought a tiny tree, about 3 feet tall. J brought back a couple boxes of tree decorations from his house, and he and our daughter decorated the tree. We had presents, because, Chanukah, so they went sort of under the tiny tree.
J sat by that tree for hours. My heart hurt for him. We welcomed him and treated him like family, but that doesn’t replace one’s family of origin.
Christmas ended and the kids went back to college. Life continued.
Update: J and our daughter ultimately broke up. We don’t have contact with him because it was too painful for him to see us after the break up. He seems to be doing well, now living in a different state, across the country from us.
You can find Heidi Stevens’ Balancing Act on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/groups/254414918544059/) and also on X (@heidistevens13)
Your post pulls at my heartstrings with my own painful memories but also of your family's kindness and sensitivity to a young man in intense pain and sorrow. The holidays, all, make it harder for people whose lives have been upset by loss of loved ones.
ReplyDeleteAnd all the seemingly happy people around them make it even harder.
DeleteThis is something I’ve had to remind myself over the years. You never know what pain someone carries with them, nor how simple things can sometimes help. Thank you for the reminder.
ReplyDeleteSome holidays are experienced differently for me as an adult than I did as a kid. Loss does that….
You are so right. Even if a holiday isn't linked to a sad memory, just thinking about all the people who used to celebrate with you are no longer here -- it can be hard.
DeleteNo matter what holiday is being celebrated, the greatest gift that can be given is to think of others and make the day special for them. What a wonderful gift you and your family gave J. arjeha
ReplyDeleteThank you. We were thankful that we could be there for him.
DeleteBecky, I have to say that I am glad you posted about a Christmas memory that wasn't happy. I do celebrate the holiday and have always loved it - but I know it is a difficult season for many people, for many different reasons. I had a good friend, a Christian, who once said he couldn't bear the sadness of Christmas songs. I was taken aback. I'd never sensed that. Yet - being older now - I do. I have stories to tell in that regard but let me come back to my purpose here: focusing on the loving act your family made on behalf of J. We never know how long someone will be in our lives and despite our differences, whatever they may be, we need one another. The greatest thing we can do is offer blessing when and where we can Know that your post has blessed me today - I thank you for it.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I am very touched by your words. At the time, we all just did what we could for him.
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