The hardest holiday. The first without their children.
Staring down the first Christmas morning without my son was one of the biggest fears of my life. It consumed me, and at one point, I was genuinely concerned that I wouldn’t make it through it. I told myself all kinds of lies, such as one day, my ex and I would be such good co-parents that we would spend it together with our new spouses so we could all see him bounce down the stairs Christmas morning to the glow of the tree. That didn’t happen. But I did survive it, and every Christmas morning since, every other year, without my son waking up at my house. But I was never alone on Christmas morning, and that saved me.
For years I would go to my parent’s house on Christmas Eve. I was the oldest of three girls, and my middle sister was special needs, so Santa Christmas continued long after I had left the house. My friends all had Christmas Eve family stuff but would come by after, and we would sing and laugh well into the morning hours. A few years my friends helped me put together gifts and prepare for Christmas morning. I hated not doing the kind of Christmas I had growing up, but I have to admit this was something special too. I was a young mom, so those friends were all single and figuring out what it meant for them not to wake up in their childhood homes too. We were all in our twenties and then our early thirties, just trying to find our place in the world.
The years I didn’t have my son, I learned to appreciate the things that I thought I would hate—sleeping in just a little bit later, having the extra time to prepare my gifts, and laughing with my friends as we drank Christmas Concoctions. Eventually, Christmas always changes anyway. Returning home for Christmas Eve ceased when I got remarried. My father passed away. My sister had kids (including her firstborn on Christmas Eve; they joined us by Facetime Christmas morning), and they breathed a new life into our mornings we had started to forget. My friends got married and had their own kids. Life changes, and no matter how you feel about this Christmas, I promise it will change. Everything does, and that can be the most beautiful thing of all. Adapting. Creating new traditions. And be so thankful for what this year holds in its uniqueness.
So invite your newly separated/divorced friends to join you in your festivities. Hug them and remind them that there were lots of good Christmases before they had kids, and there will be many more to come- even if they don’t look like last year. There is joy to be found, even in the silence.
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