A Letter from the Broken-Hearted at Christmas

My patience wears thin, and this season makes it so much worse.  

Yet, I am happy;  I really am, but I need a break.  "Stop nagging me; leave me alone" - replay in my head.  Don't ask anything else of me.  I am empty, and I have nothing left to give.  Yet, ironically, we are in a time of giving, giving, giving, or as it feels to me this year, depleting.  

Don't get me wrong, I am not depressed - like I said, I'm happy even, but my heart is broken.  (Did you know happiness and broken-heartedness can coincide?  They can.)  So much has been taken from me, more than I ever thought I would lose, and simultaneously we went through a lot of change.  I lost my Papa, who was so, so important to me.  You are supposed to lose your grandparents, so that was horrible, but I could live with it.  Then my grandma got remarried, which was great, but it changed a lot just because when you have to figure in another family to your holiday traditions it can be tricky.  I am so happy for them, but it is simply different.  Thirdly, and most prominently, I lost my mom last year.  

Losing your mom at 29 is cruel.  I am missing out on decades of memories.  My kids don't get to grow up with their grandma.  She was ripped from our lives, and we didn't ask for it.    It took me a long time to feel this way - angry; cheated of precious time.  

It feels confusing to experience these emotions at the "most wonderful time of the year."  It comes to me with a lot of guilt as I am still a mom of young children who deserve to have a magical Christmas despite the hole I can feel punched through me.  I don't know why, but this analogy has run through my mind again and again.  Have you ever sat in a room with a window that isn't sealed properly?  When it's breezy you can hear the whistling of the wind finding its way through the unsealed cracks.  I hate that sound.  It's unnerving.  I feel that in my stomach - a whistley breeze breaking through.  

And I am jealous.  I am jealous of every picture of fully intact families, all the generations present.  I am jealous of the mother-daughter Christmas shopping pictures/lunches/coffee outings.  I am jealous of the people who are deciding what kind of care to give their elderly parents - difficult decisions I won't have to make, but I wish I would have to face.  

These are not things I say to make anybody feel guilty they posted those pictures or complained about their elderly parents.  I am happy for you - I want what you have.  As a matter of fact, I think about what I would have done with her.  It stings, but that sting signifies a strong love.  

Christmas is wonderful and joyous, but it can be painful for some.  I write this in hopes that others with broken hearts know they are not in this alone.  My joy is in Jesus; I am so lucky to have the hope that I will see my mom again.  Thank you, Lord.  


Romans 8:18 - For I consider the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to us.