I Choose Joy

Cathi Kennedy reflects on how Christmas has looked differently in each season of her life.

Why was I sitting on the floor? This is the thing from the memory that I can’t figure out. We had a very comfortable couch and a recliner in our living room. So why was I sitting on the floor in dim lighting, trying to finish my mom’s present on Christmas Eve?  

As I’m writing this, we are just a few weeks away from Christmas and only a few days away from the anniversary of my mother’s death, so it’s not surprising that this memory would come to mind.  

It was the mid-90s. I had been out that night with friends or at work. I worked retail, so Christmas Eve was a crazy busy time. My life was post-high school, pre-whatever came next. Although my life plans were up in the air, my social calendar was full. 

An impossible choice  

After my parents divorced, I realized that I would have the horrible decision of where to spend Christmas. My mom was in Indiana with many extended family members, and Dad was in Texas, where I could see my left-behind friends. It was excruciating.   

For many reasons, which I won’t go into here, the thought of disappointing either parent — or worse, making either sad — was paralyzing. Bilocation was not an option, so each year, I had to pick.  

On a bookshelf in my home is a photo of me and my dad on what I believe was the last Christmas we spent together. It’s one of only a few photos I have of us, so it is a treasure. And all the more because I remember it as a fun Christmas. Before he got sick. Before losing him.   

Those Christmases were still joy-filled, although I felt torn in two. The carols were sung, and the presents were wrapped. And I can’t remember a single gift from those teen/early 20s years. Still, I remember the meals, the conversations, and the precious time with my parents — time falling through the hourglass so quickly. However, I couldn’t have known that then. 

New beginnings and endings  

My son will spend time away from home this Christmas for the first time. He’ll be in Missouri with his new wife and her family. And although I am so happy that he has this new family who loves him, I will be a bit sad. I’ll miss the Christmas morning routines of big breakfasts and Christmas wrapping strewn over the living room floor.   

Things change, families evolve, and holidays begin to look very different. Such are the seasons of life.  

There is so much nostalgia around Christmas — joy, wonder, delight, sadness, loss, grief — it’s all wrapped up with a soggy tissue bow.  

 I don’t remember if I finished my mom’s present that night when I was strangely sitting on the floor. I was embroidering as fast as I could, but it was a slow process. But I remember the excitement and joy Christmas Eve brought me, no matter which parent I was with.  

Wherever you are and whoever you are with this Christmas, I pray that joy and hope can fill your heart. I pray that if your Christmas looks the same as years past or you are learning a new normal, your heart is prepared to let Jesus in just the same.   

For peace and hope, we pray, O Lord. Amen. 

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Copyright 2024 Cathi Kennedy
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