I'll Have A Blue Christmas ... Guaranteed

Christmastime is depressing! There ... I've said it. Or maybe I should have said, everything that is normally depressing, is extra depressing at Christmastime ... and other things that are hardly depressing at all, become so at Christmastime. At least to me. Every year I find myself attempting to understand -- and sometimes even explain to friends and/or family -- why Christmas leaves me feeling emotionally bruised. It certainly isn't because I have anything to complain about. I'm healthy and happy and extremely fortunate; I have a loving family comprised of my darling husband and my precious children and grandchildren, as well as dozens of extended family. I have a good job and lots of friends. I have hope for the future and the ability to forget the part of the past that needs to be forgotten. I think I'm relatively well-adjusted, except for those times (few and far between) when I become totally irrational for no apparent reason. My husband could tell you all about those, but he'll have to start his own blog first. I would advise you not to hold your breath.

It's just that, while I can't stand the thought of homeless people, sick children or children nobody wants, dogs nobody wants, terrible misunderstandings that lead to years of hurt silence, people in the world who are starving, or those who die young (just to name a few things), at any time, for me it becomes unbearable to think about these things occurring -- or continuing -- at Christmastime. Everything that hurts, hurts worse in December. Every disappointment is sharper and every regret is deeper. Doubts and fears that usually niggle just a little, niggle a lot when those multicolored lights are glowing everywhere. As the season waxes toward The Day when families get together and most of the presents are opened and big meals are prepared and consumed, then wanes tragically into that limbo week of non-time between Christmas and New Year's Day (which day I despise for some reason), things that are already sad simply become sad to the millionth power. Until I can hardly bring myself to dwell on them. But I do anyway, just because I think I should. I think we all should.

Just last week someone in our Sunday School class requested prayer for a family. This family had two days previously lost their 24-year-old son when he suddenly passed away during a routine tonsillectomy. December 16th will mark the second anniversary of the day a brother and sister, age 23 and 29 respectively, who grew up in the community where I live, died together in an automobile accident about 25 miles outside of town. Their parents had no other children. My friend Rosemary lost her 17-year-old son in a traffic accident in late November of 2006. I try to imagine what the parents are going through, dealing with these heartbreaking events at Christmastime, but I really can't. Surely any time of year is a terrible time to receive sudden tragic news, but at Christmastime? To me it seems as though it would make an unthinkably difficult situation even worse.

And then there are the relationship problems that people endure every day of the year -- whether of longstanding duration or of more recent vintage, no matter -- that complicate what is supposed to be a joyous time and make it horribly difficult. It's not bad enough that for most of us there is never enough money or time, or both, to accomplish what you would like to during the Christmas season. Throw in a custody battle and I imagine it becomes like a nightmare. Yesterday I was retained to cover three depositions. The proceedings were set to begin at nine o'clock in the morning, with each deposition immediately following the one before it. We should have been finished by noon at the latest. But before the first deponent was even seated, one of the lawyers had bad news. "I have to be in family court at ten," he revealed to the other six interested parties assembled at the conference room table. "I just found out about it late yesterday afternoon. The judge has to rule on where my client's ten-year-old child will spend Christmas Day." As I drove home to spend the three-hour recess there before we reconvened the depos after lunch, I pondered the sadness of a child whose parents cannot cooperate about where their child spends Christmas, without a judge's intervention. I counted my blessings a couple of times just to be sure I hadn't missed any.

Later, during the third depo of the day, a deponent was asked to provide the names of his adult daughters. After stating that they both still went by their maiden name, he had to correct himself. Seems he is estranged from one of his children and has not spoken to her in years. "She may be married," he testified. "I wouldn't know if her name has changed." I thought that was so sad. It must hurt at Christmastime more than, say, on Memorial Day, if there is so much bitterness between yourself and your own child, that you don't even know whether they've gotten married. The same man, when questioned about his marital status, provided the names of three former wives as well as the lucky lady who is his current wife. He said that of the three women he has at one time or another in the past called his wife, he has no earthly idea where two of them live, or if they are even still alive. Call me a dope, but that made me sad! It probably wouldn't affect me at all two months from now, but yesterday it cast a pall. Mistakes and failures are just worse at Christmastime.

My husband once ran over a squirrel when we were on our way to a Christmas party. He didn't mean to! Now, it was a cold day and although I would always mourn the passing of a small animal under the wheels of my automobile, on this particular day -- at Christmastime -- it broke my heart in two. The little thing's legs were still jerking and I made my husband stop the car (we were in a quiet subdivision full of mature trees alive with bouncing, jumping squirrels) so that I could move the poor dying critter out of the road. I couldn't stand the thought of him getting run over again, flattened, decimated. I was wearing gloves because it was so cold. There was hardly any blood. I gingerly picked him up and nestled him in some leaves at the edge of the woods. He looked peaceful but I still cried. It was just awful, being responsible for killing a squirrel at Christmastime. Years later our Beagle, Quincy, was run over and killed in December. Our neighbor, who had tried but failed to avoid "Quince" when he ran out into the road, apologized over and over for killing our kids' pet at Christmastime. He knew it would hurt differently given that it was Christmas, and it did. The kids were devastated and they all got extra presents that year.

My husband doesn't feel the sadness of Christmas like I do (except maybe in his wallet), and if I allude to it in conversation, he is likely to kid me about it, gently. So believe it or not, on this subject I generally keep my mouth shut. I'll thank you not to guffaw. Case in point: a few days ago we were driving somewhere and I saw what I thought was a dead dog in the middle of a busy road. A car in the next lane was partially obscuring my first glimpse of the object, and all I saw was that it was brown. Brown like a dog. But then the car moved and I saw it was only a box. "Oh, thank goodness," I sighed. "I thought it was a dead dog but it's only a box. A dead box." My husband grinned in his maddening way. "A box that ran out into the road," he added. HA HA, very funny. At least I didn't ask him to stop so I could give the box a decent burial. I'm in favor of flattening box roadkill at Christmastime, but please, let's put all the world's sadness inside first.

Comments

[Deppfest]

It's true that December is a month when feelings of both sadness and joy are exaggerated, Jen, but don't you feel that this is what Christmas is all about? A child was brought into this world to save us, to show us how to live our lives fruitfully, but how can we do that if we don't reflect on both our own and other lives?

You are fortunate to have a good job, but it comes at a price. You often see the worst of people, the ones who are careless with the gift of life they have been given, the ones who believe that all the ills that have beset them are never their fault. When faced with these people time after time, it's easy to forget that the majority are just regular people who try to live their lives in a Christian way, bring their children up to respect and love and who appreciate that along the way, hurt and pain will occur.

Reflect, by all means Jen, but think about all the people who use this time of year to mend fences, build bridges (and any other cliche you can think of!). The bereaved will always have times when sadness is almost unbearable and Christmas multiplies that sadness, but life, as they say, goes on and in the main Christmas brings with it a realisation that life is precious and worth fighting for, pain and all.

[Julie]

Jen, you are not alone, I have the same feeling as you at this time of year. And I do agree with Depps too. Hugs to sweety! It made me feel not so alone to read it. So thank you.

[Julie]

Hugs to you! LOL!