The Christmas Cry

Every year at Christmastime, I tend to get a bit emotional, to put it mildly. The reality is that I cry at everything during the holiday season. I rarely cry at all the majority of the year, but at Christmas, it's like those old uber-emotional pregnancy hormones kick in and have me tearing up during Beer commercials. I'm serious. I usually can't make it 2 lines into a round of "Silent Night" without choking up. It's bad. By now, Lewis has stopped asking, "Are you OK?" when he sees the tears running down my face.

This year, I expected that it would be even worse than usual, since it's the first Christmas without my grandmother. But so far, I've been pretty tear-free. I did cry during the unpacking of my ornaments, but mostly because Jacob dropped a treasured angel, causing it to shatter. I usually cry every time I make chocolate chip cookies, remembering the dozens upon dozens my granddaddy would make. But this year, I bought the easy-peasy refrigerated rolls, so it was NOTHING like grandaddy's coveted CC's (as in "I need 2 CC's, STAT!). I was beginning to think that I was growing up, becoming less sensitive, losing my annual Christmas crying tendency.

Until today. The kids and I planned to go visit my mom for lunch. On the way, we stopped at my aunt's to pick up a box for my mom, filled with some Christmas trinket's that were my Grandmother. As soon as I saw the box, sitting there on my aunt's floor, I teared up. It was just the sight of my grandmother's handwriting that did it.

Then, I got in the car, where the kids and I had been listening to the Barenaked Ladies Christmas CD. The song "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" came on. By the time it got to the part with Sarah McLaughlin signing, I was bawling. Her voice is so clear and beautiful, it brought all those old Christmas emotions bubbling up. You know, some people cry at Handel's Messiah or the Nutcracker Suite. For me, it the Barenaked Ladies that sent me over the top. I'm so high class.

When we got to my mom's, I opened the box, only for the tears to start coming again. My mother, in her unemotional fashion, just pretended that everything was normal. But it's amazing what that ordinary little box brought back. Some of the ornaments still held the scent of my grandparent's home. I held them up to my face and breathed in deeply, that sweet, safe, familiar smell. At the bottom of the box, there was a tiny piece of paper, written in my granmother's fine hand, explaining the origin of some of the more treasured pieces. Some were gifts, some from their travels, all were special. .
My grandmother was always so organized and thoughtful. Even after her death, today I got a small gift from her, to see that glimpse of her kind heart and share those sweet memories with her

Thanks Grandmama, for reminding me of all those wonderful memories of Christmas' past. Thank you for helping me to remember that it's OK to cry. Thank you for all the gifts you've given me. I love you and miss you so much.