the day after christmas

the end of a season, the end of a life

The day after Christmas is never an easy one, especially when it’s also the day after your last remaining grandparent died, and everyone around you is planning a funeral while you’re trying to figure out how to rearrange your travel plans with your work schedule before you lead a weekend retreat in less than two weeks.

I mean, I’ve never been a fan of the days after Christmas, regardless of the circumstances. The festive music stops playing. The decorations start to come down. People turn off their pretty lights. And the stress of starting a new year begins to set in.

Suddenly, it’s all about What Next? And all I want to do is curl up in a cozy blanket and go back in time. Back, to the start of this season. Back, to my childhood. Back, to finding some comfort in the normal mundanity of everyday life. Anything will do, so long as I don’t have to worry about what’s coming.

Like anyone, I don’t want to face this upcoming funeral. As an adult, I am all too aware of the mortality of those around me, and while it was my grandmother’s time to go, and she is finally at peace, celebrating the holidays in the great beyond with my grandpa, I can’t help but think about what is inevitably going to come next….hopefully many more years in the future. I don’t want to lose my parents. I don’t want to lose my in-laws. I don’t want to lose my spouse, or my brother, or my friends. But I will. We all will. And that freakin’ sucks.

So I guess, instead, I will go back. Back to the time when I lost my first grandma, my mom’s mom, and I was still just a little too young to process it. It was during that time that my mom and I bonded the most. We brought the dog to a hotel room and watched “Family Guy” for the first time, and laughed until we cried. We went to our first CMA Fest in Nashville, and it changed my life completely. In the midst of her greatest loss, my mom sought out joy and adventure wherever she could find it, and she changed our lives and our relationship in the process. In the best way possible.

It was a loss, but it was a light. And it was the start of something new. It had to be, because that was the only possible way to process what was next.

I don’t know if these words make sense to you. I don’t know if they help, or if they sound insufferably selfish and ill-conceived. What I do know, however, is that they’re helping me. Because whether it’s the end of a festive season, or the end of a life, we must learn to ask “What’s Next?” as a way of appreciating what’s been and looking forward to whatever we can, what we still have, and what we can carry through. What’s Next doesn’t have to be scary, or stressful, or sad. It can just be. It can be an opportunity. It can be a change. It can be an open door to creating new memories and seeking out joy in whatever tiny ways we can find it.

Personally, I’ll be leaving my lights on for a while. I’ll keep watching the Christmas movies I didn’t have time for in the last few weeks. I might even keep a soft wintery playlist of carols playing in the background while I snack on the cookies I baked over the last few days, making memories with the people who matter most to me, at a time that’s meant the most to me, only because I’m beginning to fully understand how fleeting these moments might be.