The Weeping and the Joy

I grieve this time of year.  Christmas is my favorite holiday.  I love everything about it: the traditions, the trees, the lights, the music, the events, the food, time with family… Everything.

I wish Kiran understood the magic of Christmas.  I wish he was sleeping with anticipation of Santa Claus’s visit and the gifts that come in the morning.  I wish I felt the need to get that ridiculous Elf on the Shelf, because it would bring more magic to the month of December for him.  I wish he liked visiting Santa.  I wish he liked cruising around, looking at Christmas lights.  I wish he would wake up at 4 am (I know – but I really do! Consider yourself lucky!) because he can’t contain his excitement for the magic that is Christmas morning.

I don’t know that he will ever understand what Christmas is about.  But I do know this: He can understand the feeling of Christmas.  He understood the new experience of feeling cookie dough while helping me roll just a few cookies (I am impatient, I admit it, we did 4 together because he’s 4).  He understood the music and lights and excitement that was the Christmas Eve church service tonight.  He understands family and hugs and sitting by the fire and being.  Man, this kid understands just BEING, more than any other human I know.  And he gives the best hugs to those he loves.

He doesn’t get The Night Before Christmas, but he’s excited any time Mama reads to him.  He doesn’t know why he’s buckled in the car to travel to great-grandma’s house, but he loves that others want to play with him and hang out (and he loves not having to take a nap!).  He won’t understand – and may not even notice – that we will all be wearing matching pajamas tomorrow morning…but he will notice that he’s surrounded by love.

I grieve.  I do.  I want and wish for so much more for him, this holiday season and every day.  But I also see the joy.  And it’s enough, sometimes.  It’s enough.

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