Corona-cation, Month 4.

I can't believe how at the beginning of this I thought it would last for two, maybe three weeks and then life would get back to normal.

We are over 4 months in and things are still changing all the time.  The only constant is how you cannot predict what's going to happen next.

Here's the lowdown: Dan is still working from home.  The kids finished school and we should hear during the week of August 1st what the plan is for the fall.  I'm guessing Alec and Jenna will do a hybrid of a few days a week at home and a few days a week at school.  I'm definitely going to be driving Alec back and forth to school and Dan will bring Jenna. Michaela's classes are all online from Oneonta, and her roommate decided not to go back to live on campus, so she's staying home for the fall semester.  This was a huge disappointment for her, but probably is safer in the long run.  We should know more by Christmas if she will be able to go back for the Spring semester.  I'm still collecting unemployment and am planning on returning to work the first week of August in people's houses.  I just sent out emails today to clients to see who'd like to get on the schedule.  I ended up applying for four different jobs and didn't get any of them, which was a sign from God... I did a lot of praying about putting me where I was supposed to be.  I also did a lot of crying about it.

We went on vacation to the Outer Banks with the Hartles and their friends the Condons, who were super nice.  We stayed at a house right on the ocean, and woke up to see the waves every day.  We ate at the house and watched movies at night.  It was just about as safe of a vacation as we could get.  We went to a t-shirt store one morning and to the grocery store nearby once.  It was so good to be out of the house, away from everything and a wonderful change of scene.  Unfortunately, North Carolina is on a travel advisory list of NYS so we are now self-quarantining for two weeks to make sure we aren't infected and don't spread it to anyone else.  We are one week down and everyone is bored.  We're keeping our distance from Gammie, too, only seeing her outside to be sure we don't expose her to anything.  But it was a great vacation and worth it.

The rest of our summer will be low-key.  Alec is signed up for a week of outdoor camp at the Parker school and today I signed him up for a second week in August to help keep him active and busy.  We may be able to go camping once or twice but I'm not sure.

We talked a lot on the vacation about the tension between keeping everything shut down and keeping people safe vs the economic destruction that causes.  We are in Phase 4 of re-opening, which means stores are open but you need to wear masks and limit the amount of people in the store.  Restaurants are still mostly takeout and outside seating.  Doctors offices are open but everywhere has new protocols in place to avoid people gathering in waiting rooms.  There was a slight uptick in our county's numbers after the fourth of July but that seems to be settling down, and now all eyes are on Texas and Florida and Arizona and California as the hotspots.  Some states are still grappling with whether to mandate mask-wearing, and people are claiming that a mask mandate "infringes on their rights. " It's like living in an upside-down world.

And because a global pandemic isn't enough, a police officer in Minneapolis killed an unarmed black man by kneeling on his neck for 8 minutes and all hell broke loose.  Protests, demonstrations, rallies, marches, and deep conversations have all started to address systematic racism in our country.  Seattle has established its own minority free from any police intervention, searching for a utopia.  It's not going exactly as they planned.  We have had some really great talks in the house and online elevating our awareness and thinking about our role and culpability in oppressing others.

So all of this is going on AND a presidential election is being held in a few months.  There is still lots of talk about an absolute shitshow of a flu season intersecting with this virus and causing another round of shutdowns and hospital bed and supply shortages.  But things happen so quickly, its impossible to know what will happen by then... thankfully every few weeks a good report comes out about a vaccine being developed and ending the worst of this pandemic.

Overall, we're bored. We're tired.  We've watched all the shows and played all the games.  We're ready for life to get back to normal and feel like we can see people safely again, go places safely again, watch sports again, celebrate milestones, and live our lives again.  But until that time, we mark off the days and weeks, watching them turn into months, and talk wistfully about how we did things Before.

Corona-cation, 10 Weeks In.

So we've been at home for nine weeks, and are starting week 10.  It's been a crazy, boring, scary, uncertain, anxiety-provoking time.

We have thankfully settled into a semi- routine.  Alec has an online class at 10 am and wakes up at 8am to have breakfast.  The rest of his day is spent playing video games with his friends, chatting in group chats, attending math and band meets, and getting his assigned work done.  He goes to bed around 10:30pm and reads for a bit.  Then wakes up and does it all over again.  We went out for ice cream at Stewarts last week in the evening, and he said in amazement, "This is the first time I've left the house in like three weeks!"

Michaela has been totally self-sufficient with finishing up her online work and as of May 5th she officially became a college sophomore.  She did really well this semester, earning 3 A's and 2 A-'s and made the Dean's List.  She's planning on taking three classes over the summer.  She has some job applications in to places for a summer job, but the opportunities are slim unless you can work in a grocery store.  Most restaurants are still doing take out or delivery only but hopefully will start opening up in the next few weeks.  We've had a couple of bumps in the road adjusting to her being back, but overall she's been incredibly accommodating and adaptable to being home.  It was a tough transition to parenting her as a college student, and then she suddenly came home, and we had to pivot again.  She and Jenna have spent lots of time together, and she's in touch with her friends, but hasn't spent much time outside the house.  Finally yesterday we arranged for her to go to Aunt Jaime and Uncle Michael's house until Thursday, so she could help out with Kane and she could have a change of scene from us.  It's a win/win!

Jenna turned 15 during quarantine.  For her birthday I emailed bunch of her family and friends and teachers and asked for them to send a quick video wishing her happy birthday.  People were great about sending clips and Michaela put them all together into a movie for her to watch.  She planned out her day, which in typical Jenna fashion was mostly centered around meals and snacks, and I think despite our limitations she had a nice day.  I still can't believe she is 15 already.  She is so beautiful and smart and grown up and very blond.  She has her first meet of the day around 9 or 10, and has several throughout the day for different classes.  She's struggling with not having too much structure and needs some supervision to get everything accomplished.  Her phone is a big distraction and sometimes she hands it over to me for an afternoon so she's not tempted to go it while trying to complete her work.  At first she enjoyed not going to school, but now is missing the flow of the day and the in-person socialization.  She and Michaela occasionally join me for trips to the bank or the grocery store, but mostly they are home all day, every day.

Dan is working from home from around 8 am to 5 pm.  The first few weeks of it were a rough transition, but I think he's gotten more used to it.  He takes a day off here and there to work outside and burn off some energy, and has helped both Michael and Jimmy spread mulch on their properties.  He comes up for lunch and for short breaks during the day.  He and I have been watching Netflix series- we finished Ozark, watched Outer Banks, and now are in season 2 of All American.

And finally, I have been trying to figure out what to do with myself.  My business shut down on March 15th and I applied for unemployment on March 30th.  The whole system was so overloaded and dysfunctional, and I only finally got approved and got the first deposits of money in May.  It was incredibly frustrating, with dozens of phone calls that were cut off, paperwork needing to be uploaded, and initial denial then approval, and website malfunctions.  I laid off my workers in hopes that they would be able to get unemployment as well.  The whole relief package that was passed by Congress was a mess, with big companies getting the bulk of the money, long delays and other administrative hassles that only made their programs work for a small number of business owners.

It has been hard imagining what my businesses look like post-quarantine, and to know what the best option is for everyone- my employees, clients, and myself.  The business made money last year, and had 4x the sales of the previous year, but my income was just not enough to justify the amount of time and effort I put into it.  So the question is raised then of what the best path forward is- do I shut down permanently, get another job altogether? Do I keep the cleaning business only? Organizing only? Or move ahead with both businesses in an uncertain climate and take on the risk of exposing myself, employees and clients to the virus?  And if I do move ahead, how do I make it more profitable?

I found a job online at Albany that I was really interested in and applied for it but tomorrow is two weeks and I haven't heard anything.  I could apply for other social work positions in the area, but do not want to be in a hospital or nursing home setting, where the risk of exposure is high.  I could apply for positions at insurance companies, which has good pay and benefits but the work is not terribly exciting to me.  I would likely be able to work from home at an insurance company, at least a few days per week, which would be ideal.

My days are spent getting people fed, cleaning up the kitchen and other areas, doing laundry, grocery shopping and baking, supervising school work and a few projects thrown in here and there.  I've tried to work on some scrapbooking projects and have made progress.  I have been tele-meeting with two clients and that has been nice to re-connect. I led an online Bible Study for BLC for three Thursdays, giving women a chance to see each other, share their worries and look at how the Bible tells us to handle anxiety and uncertainty.  It's like being a stay at home mom again except we can't go anywhere or see anybody.  My heart breaks for moms with toddlers or special needs kids who are getting no break or respite from a constantly- on state of mothering.

Overall, we have been doing okay.  Everything is closed.  We now wear masks anytime we leave the house, and I spent a day making them for all of us and my mom.  I go grocery shopping generally once per week and we might go for ice cream or get take out food on Wednesdays.  We get pizza on Fridays.  Those are our only outings.  There is no sports, no new things to watch on tv except for home-produced music specials.  The summer looks like it will be long and camps, sports, the Saratoga track, and vacations are closed or limited.  The news is hard to watch but necessary to keep up with the changes everyday of what we know and how to be safe.  Just today it was announced that the clinical trials of a vaccine have shown good results and that is boosting people's spirits.  Everyone is tired of this, tired of the worry, the isolation, the loneliness, the changes, the uncertainty and the worry.  NYS is divided into regions and our region looks to start a phased re-opening later this week if more contact tracers are hired.  It will be so interesting to see what happens and how safe things turn out to be.  There is already warnings about a second wave coming in the fall, co-mingled with the regular seasonal flu, and having to shut down again.  School in the fall is still up in the air, and administrators are trying to balance safety with the need the students have for structure, learning, respite, safety, and support services.  A new complication has sprung up in children who have been exposed to Covid-19 and its a scary multiple system inflammation syndrome, taking away the comforting fact since January that children are generally the least-impacted age group.

It's this uncertainty of what life will look like that is so hard to deal with.  But we soldier on, thankful for our safety and financial security and the ability to be together.

Alec needs to use the computer for work, so I'm signing off. :)

Corona-cation, Part 1.

In the last two weeks, our entire life has been upended.

It's hard not to feel like we're in the opening twenty minutes of a horrible disaster movie:  first you see life going about as normal, people working, kids going to school, siblings bickering, people shopping and cooking and checking their phones and enjoying the easy routine of Life As We Have Always Known It.

Then we started hearing rumblings of this awful virus (more on that later) sweeping through China.  Sure, you feel bad for them over there, but it's on the whole other side of the world and surely it won't affect you in your comfortable bubble of America.

Then it starts getting worse over there and you hear that the hospitals are being swamped with patients and people are being quarantined inside their homes, unable to leave except to buy food.  The news starts keeping track of how many people are infected and how many have died.  The president finally closes all flights between the US and China, and there's great debate about whether it was done too soon and is too draconian or it was done way too late and the damage is already done.

Warnings are starting to slip out and you can't tell if its alarmist or safety-minded: start preparing. Don't panic.  Get ready for a two week sleepover with your family.  It sounds crazy! Seriously. Two weeks of no one going about their day, going to work and school and the gym and the store and activities?  You talk about it with your husband, who smiles sweetly at you the whole time, a little bemused, but says, Sure, if you think it's a good idea, then stock up.

So the next time you go to the store, you buy two of everything you usually get.  Nothing is really different at all; the shelves are full.  You look for things like soup and some extra meat and pasta and sauce so you can throw together meals if needed.  You gulp with surprise when your bill for the week is $300, but don't really panic because you will eventually use it all even if it turns out to be nothing.

Then the NEXT time you go to the store, about a week later, the entire toilet paper row is empty except for the brands people (apparently) don't like to buy... the dreaded Scott single-ply with 1000 sheets per roll.  They do have some packages of Scott Comfort, which is thicker, and instead of one package, you buy five.  Just in case.

Your life is going along as normal until around the middle of the week of March 9th.  Coronavirus has come to the US, mostly in NY and Washington State.  The news is starting to keep track of two numbers now, the Global Cases and Deaths and the US Cases and Deaths.  The US number is small, but creeping up.  Some of the more forward thinking governors are starting to sound warnings.  I think Ohio was the first state to close all the schools for three weeks.  It seems unimaginable.

On Thursday of that week you get an email that all after school activities are cancelled. Friday you find out your school is cancelled for two weeks.  Other schools in your area are closing, too, one by one, and the rumors begin flying and you can feel the collective panic starting to rise.  How will this work? Who will take care of the kids?

On that Thursday I wrote out a carefully worded letter to all of my organizing and cleaning clients that I was going to have distributed the following week.  It says that we are concerned for everyone's safety, don't want to expose anyone unnecessarily, and that if the schools our kids go to close, we will have to suspend service so we can home with them.  By Saturday, the letter was obsolete. All our schools were closed.  I didn't hand out one letter.

That Thursday night was the peak of my anxiety.  I was feeling lousy, anxious, scared, weird, fearful, out of my element.  I had clients scheduled for Friday and I cancelled them.  I needed to shut down, to stay quiet.

Situations and guidelines were changing from morning to afternoon.  The leaders of the state and country were giving regular updates about what was happening and were really focused on trying to avoid a cataclysmic surge that would overwhelm the hospitals.  The pressure was on for Covid-19 testing, extra hospital beds, masks, protective equipment, and especially ventilators, since the people who died did so from breathing difficulties.

First all gatherings of over 50 people were discouraged.  Then it was 25.  Then 10.  Then we were told to stay at home, only leaving the house for food or medicine.  By March 22nd, we were all sheltering in place- no church, no school, no work, no shopping, no gathering, no scouting, no playdates, no sports, no nothing.  Everything was cancelled. Everything.

The phrase Social Distancing became commonplace.  Don't come within 6 feet or another person, cover your coughs and wash, wash, wash your hands.

Everyone had an opinion about what was going on.  Some though the restrictions were overkill. Some thought it was all an attempt to destroy President Trump's re-election.  Some thought we weren't doing enough.

One of the biggest complicating factors in everything was the fact that Covid-19 is fairly contagious but isn't particularly deadly, except to those who are elderly and have pre-existing conditions.  This lead to an overwhelming sense of false security among younger people that they were not going to get it.  Videos of college students abounded during the week of March 15th enjoying their Spring Break on the beaches of Florida, while other parts of the country were shut down.  Many older people seemed to have a disconnect about the seriousness of the situation in order to avoid the perils of solitude, social disconnection, and loneliness.  People began to question whether this shelter in place was really necessary... whether the cure was worse than the illness.

So starting on March 16th, the kids were home.  Michaela, a freshman at Oneonta now, was on Spring Break when it was announced they were extending break for a week.  Teachers began the Herculean task of coming up with a school at home curriculum along with video meetings and check-ins.  Parents were challenged to become teachers.  Concerns were raised about kids who depended on schools for meals or services or counseling- how do they safely get the things they need?

The last time I went to the store, the shelves were very picked over.  Not empty, per se, but you sometimes had to be creative in your substitutions.  Toilet paper was totally gone.  Paper towels were limited. Meat was limited. Tomato pasta sauces and soups were limited.  Eggs were limited.  Everyone was on their phones talking in hushed worried tones.  It was hard not to hoard items.  It skyrocketed my anxiety- this is where it really began to feel like we were in a movie.  I've seen this one before... and now I'm in it.

And we are profoundly lucky in all of this.

Yes, my business has completely shut down.  I am not seeing clients and had to lay off my employees so they can get unemployment insurance.  No money is coming in.  Thankfully, I have little overhead so I have little going out, and won't go bankrupt from shutting down.  Unfortunately, both my annual insurance and bonding bills came due this month, so I had to pay them.  But the organizing conference I was supposed to go to in early April was cancelled and refunded, so that was $700 coming back to me.  When everything goes back to normal, if people are okay with us coming back into their homes, I will be right back up and running.

Dan is still working and getting paid.  This is an incredible blessing.  He transitioned last week to working from home and will be home now until further notice.  He has set up a little workspace in my craft room and though the days are long, he is doing fine.  I try to visit him down there periodically and eat lunch with him so he has the social connection that he seems to crave.

Dan's brothers have both lost their jobs.  Our sister in law has lost her job.  The state's unemployment offices have been completely overwhelmed with jobless claims.

How was the first week of all of us home? Pretty good.  I love being at home and am thrilled to have an empty day lay before me to fill as I wish.  Jenna and Alec adjusted well and made a loose schedule for themselves.  They did school work as assigned and Alec tooted on his trombone.  Both had video meetups with teachers and friends and seemed to really like that.

We did a lot of baking, took some walks, and enjoyed the mountains of Covid-19 quarantine jokes and memes and TikToks circulating around.  Being stuck at home with four other people is not lonely.  There does seem to be a bigger focus on what we're serving/eating for lunch and dinner each day as our world gets smaller and smaller.  We play some board games to pass the time.  We're trying to get the kids to talk about any fears or anxieties they have in this new life. Dan and I watched the first two Star Wars movies.  I read everyday on the couch with Alec, all snuggled in blankets together.  I have organized a few cabinets, caught up on laundry, and worked on closing out some loose ends with the business.  I filed our taxes.  I try to stay informed but not overwhelmed with the news each day, and that's a delicate balance.

We are going on Saturday to Oneonta to pick up the rest of Michaela's belongings and bring them home.  She's home until August. As someone who has recently come to understand the joys of being in charge of her own life, being back in your parents' house for 5 months is not what you want to do.  She has come to terms with this, but did need some Come to Jesus attitude readjustments during her Spring Break as the plans were changing.  She is someone who thrives on making a plan and executing it, and a global pandemic was NOT in her plan.

Some people are really struggling.  They are worried about their financial situations, they are worried for their elderly family members, they are overwhelmed with parenting their children for 12 hours a day and keeping them occupied.  The extroverts are going crazy being stuck in their homes and do all they can to see and interact with other humans.  Stories are coming out of people in Italy singing from their balconies or exercising together or playing music.  Everyone is singing the praises of the nurses and doctors treating people who are so ill and putting themselves at risk.  Everyone who is now trying to manage their children's education is apologizing to every teacher they've ever complained to.  I see so many more people out walking, running, trying to get fresh air and burn off some energy and anxiety.  I try to open the doors and windows every day and let sunshine in.

It's hard to remember that it's okay to go outside... the air isn't dangerous.

We are enveloped in a stew of worry and it's tough.  For me, the hardest part is knowing that we are just at the start of the bad time.  There is a tsunami wave of illness and sorrow and overwhelm hanging over our heads and about to come crashing down. Here in NY, they are saying the worst will hit in 2-3 weeks.  Now the big worry is New Orleans being the next epicenter in the US.  Europe is in the throws of a calamity and India has just yesterday closed the entire country down... that's over a billion people.

There is nothing I can do except stay in my little bunker here, make life as pleasant as I can, and pray.

Pray for all of us.

I Watched an Old Home Movie.

Well, well, well... here I am, back writing on the ol' blog, two years after my last post.
Good grief.

I blame Facebook.  Facebook makes it so easy to quickly post a picture, a moment, a story, a video and I ended up slowly just using that as my outlet.  Then when I started my business and attached a blog to my website, I started writing there and let the rest of my personal writing go.  And of course, there's the grief I've been working through for the last four years. And the kids, who grow faster and faster each month. I just don't have time to sit and write.

But I wanted to share with anyone left reading and for my own posterity an interesting experience I had over the summer that I've been processing for a few months now and finally came to some good conclusions.  It's clearly too long for a Facebook post and needs the space and time that this trusty blog can accommodate.

Sometime around August, Michaela found our old video camera in the basement, complete with tapes inside of it that were filmed back when Michaela was around 4 and Jenna was just about 1 year old.

We watched them.  It was amazing.

There were my babies: Michaela, curly haired, exuberant, hogging the camera, running, dancing, singing, joking, smiling, with her high pitched little preschool voice and full of joy.  And Jenna, my sweet blue eyed girl, smiling, observing, waving, watching Michaela like a hawk, with her little wispy hair curled off her face from her cowlick.  I was filming them, asking them to sing, asking questions, laughing, talking, and soaking it all in.  I was clearly in love with them and sounded incredibly happy.

And I remember as I was filming that the big question on my mind was, "Are they gonna turn out okay?"

Will they be tall and strong and beautiful? Will they be smart and happy and have friends?  Will they like school? Will they be healthy? Can I keep them safe? Am I doing enough? Too much? Am I doing this whole mommy thing right?

And now. Now I am watching them both, 16 and almost 13, sitting on the couch in our living room, Michaela's legs on top of Jenna's because that's how they always sit, with Jenna on the bottom and Michaela on the top, remarkably like the video, their beautiful long hair tucked behind their ears, watching themselves on the tapes as they used to be, before this house, before their brother, before PopPop was gone, before school started, before classroom tests and cell phones and early wake ups for school and boyfriends and ripped jeans and college searches and all the other stuff that comes with being a teenager.

Now I see them all these years later and I see that they are indeed- so far!- okay.

I listened to how I sounded in those videos and wondered if I am the same now as I was then... still as happy, still as optimistic, still as focused on my babies and cheerful.  I thought about that for a long, long time this summer.

I had a tough summer for a multitude of reasons.

I even talked to someone about it, and how I was feeling nostalgic for the past and how I sounded in those videos.  Was I happy now?  I explained to him how much I wanted to feel HAPPY again, like I was back then.  I've been carrying around this grief and agitation for my dad for years now and I am.just.so.tired.  I want to go back to how I sounded then. Fresher. Lighter.

"What would your dad say about all of this? What would he tell you to do?"

And I answered that he would tell me to set this all down and let it go.  I don't have to carry this junk around anymore. Let it go.

For the next month, when I would feel the familiar sensation of angst welling up, I would just say to myself, Let it go.  Put it down.  You don't have to carry it anymore.  And it got better. And better and better.  It was a huge step forward for me emotionally.

School started in the fall and quickly my life re-filled with homework and papers and stories of school and birthdays and my business ramped up again... but I still kept thinking about watching those videos.  Was I happy now like I was then?

I started to really think about what life was like back then, not just what I saw in those five or ten minute snippets.  Michaela was a handful: spirited, high-energy, challenging boundaries over and over and over again.  Jenna was exhaustingly clingy and needy and nursing constantly and would not be happy with anyone except for me.  I had all kinds of unknowns in my head... would we have another baby? Would I be a stay at home mom forever? Would we be in this house for much longer? What did the future hold?  Yes, I was happy for sure, and I knew that this is what I was supposed to be doing right then.  That gave me divine purpose and peace.  But I had some mental clutter in my head and day to day was not quite as easy as I remember it being.

So where am I now? I have thought about this a great deal lately.  I am a better person for what I have experienced in the last few years. I have grown. I have started my own business from scratch. I have been privileged to go through profoundly powerful Bible studies.  I have set goals and achieved them.  I have been blessed.  I am more confident, a better leader, more compassionate, more understanding, more loving, and more self aware.  I understand people and myself better than I did back then.  And I am fairly confident that my kids will turn out okay.

I realized how much I was looking at those videos with rose colored glasses, a wistful nostalgia for a seemingly simpler time.  Seeing my little girls on video allowed me a chance to reconnect with those babies and I loved every minute of it.

I realized I am just as happy now, loving watching my girls and my boy grow up, dipping their toes into being independent. I am happy hearing about the bigger problems and joys and issues they face each day.  I am happy growing my business and feeling like I am really helping people who are hurting to feel loved and at peace again.  I am happy that I have grown the depth of my marriage, that we have survived over 20 together without drifting apart and still really enjoy being together.

So yes, it was wonderful to be able to go back in time and revisit with our little family from 12 years ago.  But now is good, too.

I am happy.

Christmas: the Bitter and the Sweet.

Once you reach a certain age, Christmas becomes a mix of bitter and sweet.

Once you reach a certain age, you have experienced dozens of Christmases that you got to enjoy as a kid with child-like wonder.  Then you grow up a little and get to experience it with a spouse- all the melding of traditions, showering each other with presents, and making new memories.  Then maybe a little time goes by and you get to see it again with children- the anticipation, the joy, and the love of the season.

But with age also comes losses that give these memories a tinge of sadness.  With age comes the responsibility of making a magical holiday for other people.  It takes more time, more energy, and more money to maintain this magic for the little people in our lives.

All of this has been on my mind the last few weeks as I have been creating our 15th Christmas with children.

And I love it: the music, the church services, the hustle bustle, the gift buying and wrapping, the planning, the baking, the decorations.  I have a pretty good system in place by now and for some unknown reason was rarely stressed about the whole thing this season.  I have gone through enough of these to know that somehow it all gets done.

But the bitter creeps in at the strangest times.  Of course I miss my father and his huge part of our holiday.  I miss hearing his deep voice singing in the choir at church.  I miss buying gifts for him and making gingerbread houses for him.  I miss his open-faced excitement of getting presents and unwrapping them precisely with his Swiss Army knife, savoring every moment.  I miss his love, his strength, his wisdom and his humor.

But I have done a boatload of healing this year, through both hard emotional work and the grace of God and His strength. So while in past years I felt stuck in this sadness and bitter, this year I can feel it, acknowledge it, and move on.  Preferably to the sweet.

And I cry.  I cry at the Christmas songs, I cry at the Sunday School Christmas pageant, I cry at the mere idea of Mary, the same age as my oldest daughter, traveling to a strange place and giving birth to her first born in a stable with the knowledge of the awesome responsibility ahead of her, all the time responding to God that her soul magnifies the Lord and her spirit rejoices in Him.

I went to see the Disney On Ice show and even cried when Mickey first came out of the giant cupcake.

I cried yesterday when I heard the awful news that a long ago friend named Chris had suddenly passed away.  Chris was a few years older than me and lived in the neighborhood that we moved into when we moved from the country into suburban life.  I was 10.  Chris was a happy, kind, cheerful, nice kid who showed me that boys could be non-yucky and uncomplicated.  Chris was just easy to be friends with. For an up-and-coming teenage girl, that was a true gift.  He was nice.  He was just nice.

He went on to high school and we remained friendly but lost touch over time.  I would run into him every few years, and he was always armed with a ready smile and genuine interest in how things were going for me.  The beauty of Facebook helped me to reconnect with him, and in the last few years I have rejoiced at his marriage to his wife Michelle, laughed at their clever announcement to the world that she was pregnant, and oohed and ahhhed over the newborn pictures of his son, Max, when he was born 10 months ago.  I was really happy for him.

So when Dan shared this awful news when I got home from a Girl Scout event (happy but tired from coraling 18 first and fifth grade girls for a few hours and all the Christmas preparations and events that have been lovely but make life rather full), I was stunned.  And grief stricken.

I mourned for that happy kid that I met all those years ago and the gift he gave me of being my friend.
I mourned for his son and his wife and the implications of what his loss will mean to them.
I mourned that this happened so close to Christmas, and that I'm sure there are gifts for him that will never be opened.
And that reminded me of those innocent babies in Sandy Hook, who were killed for no reason a few years ago by that madman, and the gifts their parents gave them that were never opened.

And when I scrolled through Facebook and saw all the beautiful tributes to Chris, mostly saying what I felt- how nice he was, how kind he was, how easy to smile, how benevolent- I cried all over again.  I hope he knew all these people loved him.

This year I have thought a lot about why being involved in my church is so important to me around Christmas.  And a big part of it for me is realizing the structure it provides:  no matter who we have lost or gained over the previous year, whatever joys or challenges we have faced, whatever bitter or sweet we have experienced, the church service will be there on Christmas Eve at 4pm with a Pastor delivering the Christmas message, the choir singing the Christmas hymns, and my church family standing there in the pews next to me, either celebrating the year or holding me up as I struggle to get through.

So yes, I have lived long enough now to make Christmas bittersweet.  These shadows of sadness are there in the corners.

But I have so, so much sweetness: my babies. My babies. My babies.

Sharing Christmas with them... the anticipation, the advent calendars, the peaceful Advent church services, the Christmas music in the car, the special ornaments on the tree, the Christmas cards that show how they've grown, the holiday movies and baking shows we watch together, the Christmas Eve pajamas, the annual reading of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. So much sweetness and joy.

In three days, another Christmas Eve will be upon us.  My gifts are all bought and mostly wrapped.  The cards are out, the outfits are ready, the plans are made, and all I have left is some baking to do.  I will love every minute of watching them, taking a million pictures, and savoring all that sweet.

I thank God every day for the health of my husband and children, the blessings He has placed on me this year, and the church that I am a part of.  I understand God's sovereignty in my life and accept it.

I understand and accept the bitter and the sweet.