Music Is My Life And My Life Is Music Quote Even This Santa Gives Thanks

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Even This Santa Gives Thanks

The hustle and bustle of the holiday season begins. Shopping carts and weapons are full of purchases. At the beginning of the season there is a sense of joy – the wonderful part of Christmas is when good mood prevails; and all went into merry preparations. We become Santa when we plan the perfect holiday. We bring joy, family celebrations and the perfect gift to Santa.

I once played Santa like them. One thing is missing from the Santa scene today…my son. Since my first Christmas without Chad, I’ve never been as joyful as I used to be. To experience the joy of others, there is a sense of pain. It stifles the comfort of music; entertains away from tradition; and dulls many memories that once sparkled.

Sorrow and Ebenezer Scrooge make good bedfellows. I soon understood the center of our holiday is our loved ones. Without one of them, our holidays change to live a different life without them. Chad was a special element: “thanks” for Thanksgiving, “happy” for birthdays, and “goodbye” for Christmas.

Playing Santa Claus for Chad was always a challenge. She never asked for a special gift, but she managed to come up with a 16-page list effortlessly. And he smiles awkwardly at his success. Anything I did or bought was a surprise! But there were better times than presents: Pinatas and Santa visits as children; hidden gifts and other traditions for adults. Santa lived in our hearts from childhood to adulthood.

Every time I think about celebrating the first festival after his death, my heart aches. I have tried all the suggestions to overcome this but nothing seems to work. Even early on, I talked to my family about “changing habits” and doing things differently. I vividly remember sitting on the golf course in August giving advice to my sister about how our family would cope. It’s no surprise that my anxiety levels were at an all-time high when the holidays came around. All I wanted to do was finish it!

I didn’t make a very good Santa that year. If I was shopping, I wouldn’t worry about it. It hurts to see the children. Peace could not be found on religious holidays. I cried with every ornament that was hung on the tree. My heart ached and my eyes were red from crying, so I left the Christmas Eve service. And I tried to make everything normal, but I couldn’t find even a little peace for myself. I was Santa with no reason to be thankful.

I was miserable by choice. I was angry at God for allowing my life to take this turn. I felt sorry for myself and wanted everyone to feel my pain. I couldn’t deny it. It’s easy to be grateful when life is good. But when life hits dark moments, being thankful is a priceless message of faith. To my surprise, the anticipation of my first holiday was much greater than the excitement I felt. Maybe I cried myself. Maybe I’m disappointed in other people’s happiness.

Even though the years have passed, for a short time each year, the melancholy pain of Christmas knocks on my door, reminding me of where I’ve been and where I am today. Today, I can confidently say, “It’s easier to face the holidays, but it’s very different.” In the darkness of this journey through grief, there are some shining lights. The presents I received were not given by Santa Claus or purchased at a store. Instead, they are blessings that I sometimes take for granted.

  • I am happy to know that my God is always with me. Whatever I felt in His presence, whatever I said, He understood. Even today, when I have memory loss and feel sorry for myself, she is there for me. What a friend I have in Jesus!

  • I was blessed to be able to choose my attitude and my choices gave me new options. I still miss the things I never had, but I don’t think about them anymore.

  • I am blessed with family and friends who appreciate my commitment and support me without question. It gives value to what I do.

  • I am blessed because God gave me the gift of writing and I have found a way to use this gift to relieve pain.|

  • I am sometimes blessed with a healthy mind, body and spirit.

  • I am blessed with the gift of purpose every morning. “God put me on this earth to accomplish a certain number of things. Right now I’m so far behind, I’ll never die!”

  • I am blessed that my journey of grief has given me comfort and peace in the company of many new friends who share my path.

The first Christmas after Chad died, I bought a statue of Santa on his knees, head bowed, arms folded. It still reminds me of the early years of Holiday Grief. Perhaps the smith’s interpretation was intended to bring the magic of Santa Claus and the Christmas miracle of two stories together to a higher purpose. Or maybe Santa was saying thank you after a hard day’s work delivering packages. Or maybe it was Santa giving thanks that the holidays are finally over this year!

Life is a gift. For my son Chad, the gift of life was short lived. But in those short 21 years he lived and touched many lives. Most importantly, he touched me. His death exposed my weakness, but the spirit of his presence brought music to my soul. I remind myself that it’s okay to long for the past, but it’s only temporary. There is a lot to do at the moment.

Our tree sparkles with ornaments that tell the stories of many beautiful Christmases from the past. Ornaments that commemorate deceased family members. The glittering angels have silent messages; stars of hope and bells of joy. After the season has passed, the sparkle that settles on my rug reminds me that love shines forever. Our loved ones are not forgotten. They are remembered in a silent chorus of fond memories.

To be thankful for all of this, even this Santa can be thankful!

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