Christmas is clearly my favorite time of year… I mean, this is my third article about it. However, this Christmas is different. A big piece of my life is now missing. I lost my Pap in October, and this will be my first Christmas without him.
I keep trying to feel the same “Christmas spirit” I always do. I’ve tried to put up lights, listen to my favorite music, and watch all of the Christmas movies. No matter what I do, it’s not the same. The lights aren’t making my heart soar, the music isn’t making me scream along at the top of my lungs, and Elf simply isn’t as funny. Nothing feels right, and I know it’s because he isn’t with me.
All of my best Christmas memories are with my Pap. When I was eight years old, my grandmother asked me to run down to the basement to grab some backup Christmas cookies… She forgot that she was storing Christmas presents down there. To my absolute horror, I found the toy on the top of my sister’s list to Santa sitting right there on the basement floor. I ran upstairs crying, my little heart crushed and Christmas surely ruined. My GRANDMOTHER was Santa! I found my family, and all they could say was, “Don’t tell your sister!”
I ran up to the bedroom, and I turned behind me to see that Pap was right there. He sat down with me and told me that I had it all wrong. Santa is getting older, and he needs help to ensure that boys and girls all over the world get their presents on Christmas day. It just so happened that my family was among his special helpers! My grandmother had simply found that toy, and she picked it up so Santa had one less toy to make. Pap single-handedly saved my Christmas; Santa was clearly still real!
My mom and I were just talking about our reluctance toward this particular Christmas season. This year, we’re missing an integral part of our family. Pap won’t be wandering around with his camera, taking snapshots of the day to capture moments we are too busy to see. He won’t be watching everyone open their presents, with his excitement and love for us so clearly written on his face. He won’t be walking through the chaos with a garbage bag, making sure that no one else has to worry about cleaning up the mess. We both started crying right there, in the middle of a crowded Starbucks.
My favorite present to buy was always Pap’s. I always knew what he wanted: a new sweatshirt, sweater, or flannel (usually in gray.) He was so easy to please. He was simply happy to know that his grandchildren took the time to think of him and what he truly loves and wants. Nothing filled my heart more than to hand him his present and watch him open it, and see the heartfelt gratitude he felt over something so simple. I keep passing all the shirts I know he would love out in the stores, and I always think, “Oh, that’s what I should grab for Pap this year!” Then it hits me: Pap won’t need anything from me this Christmas. Nothing fills my heart with more pain than forgetting briefly that he’s no longer here with me, and then remembering seconds later.
So, I have resolved to just keep going through the motions until it feels right. I’ll keep singing Frosty the Snowman, I’ll decorate my tree. It may not fill my heart with the joy it usually does, but Pap would want me to try it anyway because he knows how much I love it. Maybe one day, it will all feel right again. That day just will not be today.
