I just don’t think I can do it this year, put up a holiday tree – and I’ve realized it’s more about George, than Sara. This is supposed to be his first holiday season with us. I close my eyes and the scene unfolds:
In years past we’ve put up as many as three trees, but this year it would probably only be one, to cut down on the time spent taking ornaments away from George. George would be about 11 months now, if he were born around his due date – probably crawling and certainly cruising. I imagine that we would put the tree upstairs, either in the living room in front of the main windows at the front of the house, or in the sunroom. The sunroom stays colder (no heat to it directly), but the benefit to putting it there is that we could shut the doors to the sunroom if we wanted to have some time when neither baby nor cat could interact with the tree. We would have to stick to non-breakable ornaments, at least on the lower half of the tree – but we were already doing that because of the cat.
There would be presents under the tree, but not too many since Sara and I didn’t want a house completely full with children’s toys. We were hoping to take the quality over quantity approach. (Easier said than done, I know!) Since I’m pagan, and Sara floated between a few different religions but seemed most comfortable with Christianity, we would probably start a ritual where we opened up at least one gift each on the morning of the winter solstice, and then we would also open up a gift each on Christmas morning. I know at 11 months old, George likely would’ve been more interested in the boxes, wrapping and bows than the gifts themselves (like a cat!) but that’s just part of the fun.
Sara LOVED the holiday season, and she was looking forward to being a mom more than anything else in the world. Our first holiday season with George would have been so incredibly meaningful and full of joy and love. She would have started collecting a new ornament for George each year – undoubtedly with a “baby’s first Christmas” for this year…maybe one of those that you decorate at home with the baby’s hand/foot impressions or insert a picture.
We would take George to zoolights, which was an activity Sara and I enjoyed our first holiday season together on a date. Maybe we would’ve actually gone to the drumming up the sun event (had there been no pandemic) with George this year at Red Rocks, where people gather to drum and chat and sing the sun up after the longest night of the year. It’s always an electrified and magical experience, and George could have his own little baby drum. If we did that, we would go back home to have a delicious breakfast (probably our favorite, waffles) and open the yule gifts.
On Christmas, we would spend the morning with Sara’s closest friends as was her ritual since long before me, and then we would either host my in-town family or we would go over to my mom & stepdad’s house to spend the late afternoon & evening with them, listening to music, enjoying good food, and exchanging presents. George would be the center of attention, I’m sure.
Our New Year’s would be a quiet celebration with hopefully a sleeping baby, and probably a movie marathon of some kind and complete with a kiss and a glass of champagne at midnight – celebrating our first year as parents. The tree would still be up, because Sara didn’t like to take it down until mid-January.
This holiday season was supposed to be beautiful and magical and joyous and full of love. There are still whispers of all of that in my life – I still see beauty in the snow that sparkles in the morning sunshine after a fresh snowfall, and joy in (virtual) time with good friends, and love in different interactions throughout the day. I can still feel all of that and I can also feel like there is this big, gaping hole that is made more jagged during this particular holiday season. If I were to put up a tree, no matter how beautiful it is, it would primarily remind me that George is missing.
Hopefully the holiday season in 2021 is a little less painful, a little easier to process. But my truth right now is that it just hurts too much this year.
