It doesn’t feel like Christmas time – at least not for me, not this year. That’s ok. I’ve been wanting and not wanting to write about this for a little while now. Wanting to write because it’s on my mind. Not wanting to write because, as I was warned, the holidays would be tough. It’s another stark reminder of what a difference a year makes.
This time last year, I was going crazy (in a good way) with trying to find ways to make my girlfriend, B, feel at home for our first Christmas together. I’m not one who likes a lot of “stuff” or likes buying stuff – I think effort and time are worth so much more than things. But last year, my mind was buzzing with things that I thought would show her I loved her, paid attention to her, and wanted her to have the best Christmas ever – the first of many. When I look at the pictures on my phone from this time last year, there are pictures of the deodorant and perfume that she used (practical gifts that said I pay attention to the little things). There are pictures of her friends – I had two ornaments made: one with pictures of her family and one with pictures of her friends. I wanted to bring a little sense of home to Philadelphia for her (she talked a lot about how much she missed home and how hard this time of year was for her). There are pictures of the dog (which I had made in to socks). There are pictures of our trip to NYC – a special place this time of year (a bartender called me a big cuddle bear)…. I couldn’t stop thinking of things to do for her – it was a creative outlet for me, it was my purpose.
Wanting her to feel connected to home, I reached out to her sister in law through Facebook (we had never met or talked)….
Hey L,
This is B’s boyfriend Matt. I’m writing to see if you could help me out. B doesn’t have any Christmas ornaments from home, and I’d love for her to have a little sense of home during the holidays. Ideally, it would be great to have an ornament from her mom (she said T has all of those ornaments – could you ask him for one?) and something that makes her think of you S and the kids – if you send a photo, I’d be more than happy to have an ornament made for her. I suppose if I had a photo of her mom, I could make one from that too…
Sorry for FB stalking and for the strange request. I just know how much she misses home and seeing all of you. Can’t wait to meet everyone . Best, Matt
Sis L was great – they made an ornament out of a pine cone, and she found B’s old stocking and some pictures. She boxed it all up and shipped it out to me. B’s nephew wrote us a card. It was pretty awesome. I was so excited to do these things for her.
This year, I have none of that spirit, none of that creativity, none of that purpose. It makes me a little sad…. another example of how we are at our best (and most generous) when in a loving relationship. I know I am.
This morning I woke up thinking about Christmas. I opened my much smaller box of Christmas stuff – I purged a lot before I moved. I was fully expecting to get hit with the feels, I’ve been bracing for it for a few days now. Last year, as part of that whole home thing, I had six new stockings embroidered. One for B, one for me, one for my daughter, and one for each of the pets, Zelle, Nick, and Paris. I kept B’s and Zelle’s stockings – I wasn’t ready to trash them… Fortunately, they are packed away somewhere else, and I didn’t have to see them – though obviously, the memory still exists. This year, there’s just the two of us, and I’m not sure I’m up for decorating or hanging them.
The Things We Keep
Fall and winter are seasons of death and reflection. It’s darker and colder. With it comes the end of a year. The last time I talked with Jocelyn (my therapist back in Philly), she said she was thinking about the things to let go of in order to make room for new growth. I don’t doubt that she was thinking that on a personal level, but I also think she was sending me a not so subtle message. As sentimental as I am, and knowing that I don’t let go easily, this is something that I think about – a lot. I usually land on the side of self-compassion and tell myself, I’ll let go when I’m ready to let go, when there’s no longer any emotion attached to letting go. I did this years ago with my ex – the divorce was just the legal end to something that each of us had let go of long before. I refuse to “force myself” to let go. I think doing that will only cover it up for me.
This past September, I remember standing in my garage, packing for my move and looking at the stockings. I don’t know if it was out of optimism for a different outcome, or out of stubbornness for the beauty of the past, but I could not bring myself to throw them a way. I suspect creative types hold on to these things longer, they tend not to be the throw it away and just move on types. I knew seeing the stockings would be an emotional shock here in Memphis – in a strange way, I was almost looking forward to it. It’s like pushing on that sore tooth. I thought about mailing them to B, but that seemed like sending an emotional scud her way, and while I would love for her think lovingly about our time together – to actually remember us, it’s something I don’t want to force. She’ll push on that tooth if she wants to (or maybe it’s already been extracted, replaced with an implant – that’s just my word play humor).
I also remember going through my old ornaments before moving. Some of those were pretty easy to ditch – I’m not sure why I hadn’t ditched them earlier… other than to say, like so many things from my previous life, it was just stuff and it didn’t matter if it stayed or went – getting rid of stuff just required more effort than ignoring it.
The first Christmas after getting divorced, I spent some time thinking about tradition, what to keep, what to toss. My family (wife, kid, me) always spent one night decorating the tree. We each had our own personal ornaments to hang, and there were a bunch of family ornaments we would divvy up and hang. We would listen to Christmas music (it always started with Angela Lansbury singing We Need a Little Christmas), and at the very end, I would put the star on top and plug it in. That first year alone, I wasn’t in the mood to do Christmas. I had had a rough few months in an on-again / off-again relationship, and we seemed to be permanently off, and I kept thinking, why do I want to do all of this for just me…. That was precisely the point – I needed to do it for me. I dialed back on the overall house decorating (not that I had done too much before), but I went out and got a tree. I hung my ornaments, I left my exes ornaments in the box, I set Carolyn’s aside so that she could come over and hang them herself. I plugged in the star. I sat by the warm glow of the tree and cried because it was beautiful and peaceful and I was alone.
Last year, B and I helped each other pick out trees for our places. I remember carrying hers on my shoulder the 5 or 6 blocks down Fairmount, past Eastern State and up to her place. We talked about creating our own traditions – we were thinking of writing a note to each other and putting it on the tree. I know I set a night aside for all of us to decorate the tree at my place. I think she had decorated most of her place on her own one morning after I had left. Thinking back, I wish we would have talked a bit more about that – did she have traditions that she wanted to keep – what did she want to hold on to? How was she feeling, who was she missing? It never got much further than her saying she missed her mom a lot (which was why I reached out to her family).
One night, we were going to see Wild Child. Carolyn was with me, we had gotten to B’s place before she got home. Carolyn pointed to an ornament that had B’s late husband’s name on it. She and asked if R was B’s husband. The question and the ornament hit me pretty hard. It put me in a weird space. I think more than anything, I was just surprised by it. I talked about my ex all the time – very matter-of-factly so. B seldom talked about her late husband. B knew I wasn’t holding on to any memories, that I wasn’t overcome by sadness or longing or any of those things – she was, matter-of-factually, my ex. Seeing the ornament and not knowing any story behind it hurt. I had no context. I had been creating as much space as possible for her, and for us, and suddenly I felt like she had closed me out. A reminder of this past life that I knew nothing about and wasn’t really allowed to approach. To this day, I have trouble saying exactly what had bothered me about it. I didn’t want her not to have memories, I didn’t want him to disappear, I didn’t want her not to honor him…. but I think the never discussing it, felt like I was going to forever be kept out of her life – I wanted to be a part of those feelings – good or bad. I wanted her to share her memories with me. And maybe that was my mistake – maybe this was too sacred to be shared.
Of course she had and has the right to keep those feelings inside, but we had been talking about spending the rest of our lives together. I was looking to be included. We argued about it. She took the ornament down. This was often the reaction and seldom what I was asking for. If we needed to create space in our life and our home to honor her late husband, I would have been open to it. If it was important to her, it was important to me. The first thing I understood about that type of loss was that it wasn’t a choice. I chose to get divorced, it was easy for me to make peace with it, it had been years in the making. It was also easy to let B in to that part of my life. Death was a not a choice, and so I always expected B’s loss to be much harder to navigate. I suppose the same can be said for now. B chose to leave, if she’s made peace with it, I can understand, it was probably some time in the making. For me, it was sudden, I had no say. It feels harder to let go of something that, for me, had so much promise. Those memories still bring me a level of joy – I can’t seem to do an emotional Marie Kondo cleanse….
I feel more alone this Christmas than I have in previous years. On the heels of how good last Christmas was, this is about as far from that feeling as I could get. But, to be honest, I’m glad to be alone. I’m glad I’m not sharing it with anyone – I’m not there yet. I would hate to have to hide these feelings. I would hate to have to be expected to be in the moment with someone else, with these memories are so close to the surface. I would feel guilty for what I’m holding on to and what I’m holding back, and I don’t want to feel bad about that. I’d feel bad for not giving myself (including my inner thoughts) completely to my new person. As I look at the few mementos and ornaments I have left, I’ll think about why I would want to hang them and what they signify.