Ever since Char voiced her intentions on doing a Blog Carnival on Adventures in Holiday Decorating, I couldn’t help but think back eight years to a time when I felt I was participating in my very last Christmas.
I’d been so severely depressed for several months some strange illness had consumed me and having been poked on and prodded so much, I was down to one last test I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to and one that I put off as long as I could. That one test I felt would become my personal death sentence and I had very little strength to do much of anything much less decorate.
It took everything I had just to throw up the tree a week before Christmas and place a few lights and homemade ornaments on it.
In between my very long naps, I found myself overcome with worry, wondering just how I was going to provide a nice Christmas for my little guys that year – the twins were five.
As a single mother, life was just about as tough as it could get.
Both boys had made only one request that year and one of them asked for something I just knew I couldn’t afford this enormous battery powered battle ship. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but someway some how, I just had to. After all, I really believed this would be my last.
God really blessed me that year with a bonus from the company I’d just begun working for 4 months earlier. I had no idea I was even eligible for a bonus, much less enough to cover a nice Christmas for my boys.
Now, this battle ship, it was truly enormous – we’re talking at least 4 feet. There was just no way to wrap that thing. So what I did was placed several cheaper presents under the tree and hid the battle ship in the outside shed.
On Christmas morning, as that little fellow opened each gift, I could see the look of disappointment on his face. It was all I could do to keep from crying my eyes out for him. Once he was finished opening them, he came and hugged me tight offering up his little handmade gifts they’d made at school.
My dad was there and once we’d cleaned up the mess inside, he told Trey to get his coat and gloves on so he could help him shovel the snow off the sidewalks we’d gotten several inches of snow that Christmas. Off went that adorable little 5-year-old to make sure the sidewalks were nice and clean for his mom. Of course he had to go to the shed to get the shovel.
I stood at the side door waiting for him to enter the shed he did and came back out with the shovel. Obviously his little head had been down the entire time, because I had to ask that he go back inside to get something off the shelf before he came to the house.
Suddenly I heard the screams “OH OH OH Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Mommy, Oh Mommy! Santa got my battle ship!!!!” He had it locked under his arms as he was trying to run to the house. It was bigger than he was so he stumbled all the way. His little toothless expression and the anxiousness in his voice was something I’ll treasure for all time.
You see, this is a little boy grew up and became the man of the house so much sooner than he should have. Because of the divorce, he would take such good care of his brother, he’s still so responsible. He learned to clean, cook and do laundry at the age of 5 to help his very sick mommy I knew he deserved something very special. In fact, I’ll be forever indebted to him for helping me like he did.
Two more months would go by before all my tests would be complete and it would be found I was suffering from a chronic form of mono. The test I had waited on was HIV. Having been cheated on and discovering that I’d not been tested for all STD’s when I thought I had, the symptoms I was having pointed right to HIV.
Obviously things turned out, but you know, I’ll never forget that Christmas. Every year, when the stresses of the holidays begin to be too much I think back to that particular Christmas and find myself very thankful that I am still here to be stressed.
That’s why I always put my tree up right after Thanksgiving and take it down on New Years. Because my boys are growing up so fast and I want to cherish every single moment of holiday magic with them that I can.
To me, decorating for the season isn’t just about the decorations and the presents, to me it’s a celebration of life and the belief in second chances.
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Aw…I’m sitting here crying!!!
Thank you for putting the magic into perspective…I’m going to hug my boys a little tighter when they wake up tomorrow…
You have such a wonderful way of reflecting on the past and showing us all how adversity makes you stronger. Merry Christmas Gayla!