For me, this could easily be one of those sad, blue Christmases. You know . . . the ones they sing about in holiday country songs?
After all, this will be the first Christmas without my mom. AND - for the first year ever, neither of my kids will be home for the holiday. It's just sort of . . . layer upon layer of Christmas bummer.
But I decided . . . NO. It will not be a sad, blue Christmas!
It will be hard.
It will certainly be different.
But it will NOT be a bah-humbug kind of season.
Over the years, I have gotten pretty attached to (entrenched in?) the ways we celebrate Christmas. Traditions we all enjoy, sure. But traditions that are hard to change --- even when the only reason we're still doing them ... is because we've always done them.
So. This year provided me with . . . the reason, the space, and - yes - the permission to evaluate and re-think HOW I celebrate Christmas.
I've cut back on pretty much everything. Decorating. Gifting. Shopping. Wrapping. Going. For the first year in . . . well, decades . . . I have empty space and time in my December calendar. I don't have a tree -- and I don't miss it a bit. I'm not constantly on-the-go -- and it feels great.
In this year that I could easily NOT have any Christmas spirit at all, I'm finding that I actually have more than I ever expected.
It's hard, there's no denying it. I nearly broke down the other day when I found the perfect gift for my mom . . . and then remembered I didn't need to shop for my mom this year.
But I'm enjoying the lights and the music and the decorations - and my memories. I'm looking forward to what's next -- and how we can create a "new" way to celebrate this year.
Christmas? Yeah. It's going to be different.
But it's going to be okay.