A Frozen Little Christmas

The temperature is well below zero outside, factoring in the wind chill.

It’s too cold and dangerous to travel unless absolutely necessary, so our holiday observances will be delayed a few days until the arctic freeze breaks and the salt works on the sidewalks, making it safe for people to walk outdoors again.

It was going to be a small gathering this year anyway, just us and in-laws who live locally. Covid worries (and other viruses as well) still make travel out of the question for me, and even if we’d had plans to get together with my offspring out of state, our flights would’ve been cancelled by the storm. If I never hear the words ‘bomb cyclone’ again it’ll be too soon.

I’m very lucky, though, at least of this writing I still have power, heat, water, and food. Those are the Christmas miracles I asked for this year, I know others haven’t been so fortunate or don’t have those kinds of privileges in daily life to begin with; so there’s nothing more a grateful heart could earnestly ask for this time of year.

In truth, I haven’t felt that much like celebrating anything. I have ongoing family worries I can’t really talk about, and the first anniversary of the death of my sister falls right between Christmas and New Year’s. Already a difficult time of year for me because the childhood loss of my grandfather (who was more like my father) happened right before New Year’s as well way back in 1982.

That loss changed my mother in ways she's never recovered from, so that was really the year I lost the mother I’d known as well. This year it’ll be forty years since Grandpa died and I still can’t get over how it feels like yesterday to the eleven year old girl who still lives inside of my fifty-one year old outer shell.

Holiday depression is real, ya’ll.

I know some folks experience it because they don’t have close family to celebrate with. Some are living alone and the isolation of the last three years in Covid world is hitting them hard. My heart hurts for them.

I wish I could be there for all those who feel alone over the holidays (whichever holidays they’ve been celebrating the past week or so; Happy Hanukkah, Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas…and soon Happy Kwanzaa. If I missed anything I apologize and offer "Happy Holidays" with the best intentions for inclusion). I wish I could have you over for hot chocolate and cookies and to share wishes that somehow 2023 will be better than the seemingly endless slog of 2022.

Wherever you are in the world this year, whether you’re facing health difficulties or mental health struggles or family problems or money worries or threats to your safety and security in any other way, please know you matter in this world. People do care.

I care.

If the holidays are too much to bear, turn off the music and TV, pick up a book, and transport yourself somewhere different. Video chat with a friend or relative if you can. Snuggle your companion animals, if you’re blessed to have them.

Do any healthy thing you can do to get through these stressful, tiring, over-exciting, endless, exhausting days between now and the New Year.

Send a good thought out to the world or to specific people… knowing someone out here (me) is sending good thoughts back your way.

Just hold on, because however you look at them, the holidays are almost over. Hold fast the good you may find in them, however they are significant to you, or ignore them altogether if that’s better for your health. Remember, if you can, the little and big victories you may have achieved this year even and especially if that feat was merely surviving it.

Be safe out there, my friends.

You are loved, believe it.

-bru