2012 was a bittersweet year for us. While I was ready for a
new start (a good change from what we had been through this year) I was also
incredibly thankful for what 2012 taught me...and us. When times get tough life
gets real. You learn what is really important; you gain knowledge only
achievable by living.
I spent a large majority of the month of December secretly
blue, using holiday decorating to keep my mind at bay. The tough tide of the
year seemed to come to a culmination. As if going through it wasn't enough, it
all had to come and crash in on me just in time for "The Most Wonderful
Time of the Year."
Like I said, though, holiday preparations were my best
friend. It allowed me to keep myself busy, accomplishing everything before the
"big day" arrived, while enabling my brain to do what it does best:
multitask. As I worked my way through my to-do-list I found myself analyzing
what I had discovered throughout the year. I was adamant about leaving 2012 in
2012 and carrying along only the things that were healthy and beneficial....the
life lessons. Trying to maintain my sense of humor I contemplated my recent
past in the hopes of making it a little easier to approach. I knew it was best
to be honest with myself. I've come to the conclusion that in life, if I can’t
be honest with myself, the chances of anyone else approaching me with honesty
are slim. I’m a fan of the truth.
While bringing together my big plans for Christmas I was
hopeful my excitement was masking my inner melancholy. It was Burke's second
Christmas but her first as a walking, babbling toddler. 2012 was the year she
took her inaugural walk down the hallway to see what Santa had left below the
tree. I couldn't wait to record all of her sweet expressions as she unwrapped
her goodies, one little right-handed-rip at a time. She could enjoy the magic
that is Christmas morning, with the low lights and the feeling of love and
comfort that accompany it. While I was unable to buy out the toy department for
her I felt confident that, in her young age, she would be happy with whatever
she discovered that morning. For that, I was thankful.
In addition, we were hosting Christmas dinner for both of
our families. I have always looked forward to the year I could start this
tradition. With Seth's mom helping out with the major task of cooking, half of
that responsibility fell from my back. I'd started preparing the menu as soon
as Thanksgiving was over and called my mom and sister to request some of their
specialties. I was overly excited about using some of my grandmother’s dishes
I'd inherited. Being a girl without a dishwasher, the thought of using paper
plates when feeding 16 people was tempting. However, I think a part of me
needed to use those dishes. Maybe it was my way of knowing that my grandmother
was with me on Christmas...a day when I needed her strength the most. I took
the time to go through the Currier and Ives set and discovered I could feed
many, many more than 16 with this collection. I packaged it all up,
reorganizing it as I went, and stored it so I had what I needed ready and
handy.
Being on a tight budget, we couldn't afford to buy everyone
the gifts we wished we could. My priorities stood with the kids: Burke and my
nieces and nephew. While I secretly purchased Seth something small and snagged
a couple stocking-stuffers from the dollar bins at Target, I was adamant that
he get me nothing. I'd already received the best gift I could ever ask for -
the ability to stay home with my daughter -something I never dreamed I'd be
able to do. I am endlessly grateful for every little moment I had with her over
the course of 2012. I appreciate all the "firsts" I was able to
experience because I did not have to juggle a career with the most precious
time of my child's life. Nothing I could open on Christmas morning would come
close to matching the gift of being a stay-at-home mom. It was these
appreciative thoughts that carried me through the difficult final month of 2012
and saw me to an end of my blues.
On Christmas Eve we had a nice dinner with Seth's family and
after everyone left it was "go time"! I'd been anticipating this
moment since the previous Christmas and let me tell you: It. Was. Awesome. We
tidied up the house and perfectly placed the gifts just as the very thoughtful
Saint Nick himself would have. We set-up her brand new play kitchen so it would
be dimly lit by the glow of the Christmas tree as she tiptoed down the hallway
the next morning. I was more eager than when I was on the receiving end of
Christmas as a child! Lastly we stuffed the stockings with little goodies and
made sure everything was in its place. We were ready...and exhausted.
Christmas Morning! Seth woke up at 5:00 a.m. and instructed
me to stay in bed. This was not the first time I'd seen 5:00 a.m. on Christmas
morning but for some reason I was just as excited as I was 20 years ago. I lay
in bed for an hour before I decided to hop in the shower. Knowing I had a busy
day ahead of me, I thought it a good idea to get a head-start. Just like any
other day (with my phone and my cup of water in hand) I walked down the hall
and into the kitchen, stopping for a little smile as I admired the display
waiting on Burke. The lights in the house were still off and the Christmas tree
was glowing ever so softly, just as it should before sunrise on Christmas
morning. However, as I entered the kitchen I noticed an unfamiliar glow coming
from the living room. Before I could ponder the source the smell hit my nose;
He had woken up early and started a fire in our fireplace, the first fire we'd
ever had in our home. It was beautiful. I slowly walked into the ambiance Seth
had created in our living room, where he stood. Not only did he start a fire
but he hung fresh mistletoe in the doorway. All of a sudden I felt far removed
from the hustle and bustle of the year and the busy schedule of my day. Just as
charming as one could imagine it...it was. As I approached Seth to hug him and
tell him Merry Christmas I could feel myself relax and let go of everything I
needed to release. The turmoil of the year was leaving me and I was not going
to stop it. I was happy, with the man I loved, in our perfect home, enjoying
the calm before the storm of the day. As he held me in his arms by the fire he
pointed out the mistletoe, asking if I noticed. I replied as I walked toward
it. As I reached the spot where it quaintly hung I turned around to face Seth,
anticipating a kiss in true fashion of mistletoe. Instead I found him on one
knee, kneeling in front of me.
It’s at this point I find the story difficult to tell. There are no perfect words for the way I felt at that moment. There is no way I could perfectly recite the words that followed. What I can tell you is that there were tears, hugs, kisses, and (of course) a "yes" all in the beautiful ambiance that he had created in our home on that perfect Christmas morning. A most perfect start to the day in which I washed away the troubles of the year and vowed to myself that this would be the fresh start we needed as the brightness of assurance and optimism flickered from our fireplace.
