So Christmas 2016 is just a memory, a sweet, sweet, beautiful memory. I shopped, cooked, and wrapped gifts.
I watched my grand baby who was too little to understand the concept of the holiday open her gifts. The adults said yay to everything she did including when she yawned. This is how precious the grandparent experience is.
It was wonderful until my beautiful, thoughtful, so loved daughter began to fade. The celebration born out of the birth of Christ that now focuses on the wonder and excitement seen through the eyes of a child was breaking her heart.
She anticipated being pregnant for Christmas and of course as you know she is not.
As usual, this so poised and in control young woman, tried to appear as if she was enjoying the holiday, but her eyes told me different. I struggled not knowing what to do. Do I ignore the signs and allow her to continue the facade? Other’s did not see the pain in those sparkling eyes but I did. I chose to keep silent. But I worried, will she think her mother doesn’t recognize her pain?
I went into the kitchen and cried. I felt like I was failing her. DAMN!!! Why don’t I know what to do? Why can’t I help her? I want her to know I see her pain without causing her more. Is that even possible?
I went back in and sat next to her. I took her delicate beautifully manicured hand in mine and whispered “you ok”?
She nodded yes and looked away. I knew this was all she could do and I left it at that. We sat in silence holding hands.
Once everyone was gone and as my husband was softly snoring I cleaned up the day’s celebration. I reflected on the day and remembered the meaning of Christmas… It is not about the gifts or the decorations or the food.
It’s the day our Savior was born. This is what we are celebrating.
As I laid my head down I and gave thanks for all that God has given me I did ask for one gift….please bless my daughter with the wonderful gift I have been given… motherhood.