I love it because I used to hate it.
That's right, I used to despise it and a know used to form in a my stomach as soon as the first Christmas decorations showed up in the mall. I would worry and wonder what could happen with my family this year? In fact, I banned them all from Christmas morning so my kids could open presents in peace. SO I could enjoy just a half a day of the holidays. It was one of the first times I put boundaries in with my family and I did it for my kids. And Christmas mornings were magical. It still never gets old for me and even when my first husband and I separated, he still came over every Christmas morning and opened presents with our kids. We still have brunch on Christmas morning, all of us. Those boundaries are the best thing I ever did. It paved the way for me to love Christmas again. LOVE it.
Boundaries are a funny thing though because as necessary as they are, they are a painful process to put in place. The first time you put it out there, everyone revolts. People absolutely refuse to believe you would be so unkind or so selfish. The backlash is momentous. So you falter. And you waver. And you second guess what you are doing. But if you stay the course, things even out, people start to accept the boundaries and either they fall away from your life altogether or you fall into some comfortable rhythm. Christmas became my love song. People got over it and indeed even admired it.
But boundaries get skewed with mental illness. Two years ago, my sister got kicked out of where she was living on Christmas Eve and she had planned to have both of her kids. So we took her in. I mean - what choice did I have right? We started a new tradition of Christmas Eve Fondue and it was fun. I ran out and filled three extra stockings and we just muddled through. Christmas morning, my sister was there. It was the first time in 14 years I had anyone else at our Christmas morning. But extraordinary circumstances right?
Last year, my sister did not have anywhere to go for Christmas again. We supervise her time with her daughter so if she wanted to see her, we would have to take them all. So we did. And she slept over and was here for Christmas morning. My husband bought me an anniversary band. It was very special because really we had only been married one year and anniversary bands are for year 10 but he said it felt like we had lived through 10 years already. It was very awkward to get that gift in front of my sister and she kept making jokes about how she would probably never get that kind of gift and how she could be my husband's other "wife". It was the reason we banned everyone from Christmas morning because it was private and intimate and just something we shared that didn't get polluted by family politics. It felt awful because it was not a joke really, because my sister's life has been irrevocably changed and here I am living this very normal and lovely life. The guilt bleeds off of me. It is hard to feel joyful in front of her because it highlights what she does not have. And she is quick to point it out and make loud jokes and bring it up over and over. She would say she doesn't want us to act differently or be someone we are not but in reality it is a showing off of a life she covets in many ways and it cannot be hidden but we do our best to downplay it.
And so we have - downplayed out joy for over 2 years. And now none of us can seem to re-claim it. Christmas is coming. My sister is broke and has already moved out of her housing into somewhere else. Problems occurred right away. We will be responsible to supervise her daughter. She will stay for Christmas but an incident a few weeks ago means she cannot stay here by herself and she is not welcome at other places we might go and so Christmas will be all about my sister and getting her at least the bare minimum of what we can offer her as "normal". And I wonder when will I stop being so resentful and angry? When will I feel blessed to have this time left with her when we thought she would die so many times over the last 2 years? When will it stop being so watered down and dismal?
I want to give her all the joy I can in the time she has left. I want her kids to have memories of her that they will cherish forever. I would have wanted someone to orchestrate that for me and my siblings years ago when my parents were at odds - I wanted them to suck it up and just pretend that Christmas could be lovely again. They didn't and we are all haunted by the ghost of Christmas Past every damn year. Why can't I just make it beautiful and joyful - a single day where we forget what has happened and be present. I just can't do it. And I weep daily wondering how I will feel about Christmas when she is gone, when there is no chance to redeem the situation. I lived such huge regrets after my dad died - I should have called, I should have tried, I should have made the first step. How can I re-live this over and over?
Simply because it is not as easy a lovely Christmas day. Do you know how many times I answered my phone when my sister first got sick? How many days of work I missed and then missed some more of without reporting it? Do you know how many pep talks and words of encouragement I dispensed on a daily basis. Sometimes for hours - then to have her attempt suicide the next day after all that time and energy and sacrifice.And then to have her joke about that too. She took advantage of me and I let her. She did not think of my children and the weeks that would go by without seeing them because I was with her. The hours we drove to pick up her daughter and the embarrassment and the humiliation at the hands of her ex's family. Though she knows how hard I have struggled to maintain my Christmas mornings with my kids - she would never suggest she come over after or even ask. She will say, "I'm sorry I don't have anywhere else to go". It will guilt laden and resistant. And I am her sister and why can't I make this lovely for her? Why can't I just give it up and be there for her and lose the regrets and bitterness? Because the more I give, the more she takes. If I fall back at all, if I lose my boundaries anymore, she will pounce. If I believe her, she will lie. If I stop looking, she will fall. It is not a guess. It never ceases to amaze me how accurate my gut is in telling me something is wrong even when she denies it and chastises me for my lack of faith. It is almost never wrong and I can tell by the sound of her voice most days that she has done something that is going to get her into trouble. I miss the naivety we had before we figured it all out. I miss my Christmas mornings with my family before we had to let the rest of the world in.
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