======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
“Oh, there’s no place like home for the holidays,” the familiar tune affronted me through the speakers of my car as I tried to maneuver in the mid-December traffic.
“Fuck you,” I muttered, hitting the power button on my radio a little too hard and gripping the steering wheel with more pressure. I glanced out the window, willing my heart to slow down and my eyes not to well up.
For most of my 25 years, Christmas has been my absolute favorite time of the year. Sure, the traditions have varied and changed slightly over the years, but for the most part, the foundation was the same. We’d all be home a few days before the “big” day. We’d all bustle around, pretending to clean when mom handed us supplies and blasting the familiar tunes through the house, trying to outsing each other.
We’d be far too competitive with our cookie decorating, and Cookiegate 2015 still makes my heart clench because I had obviously decorated the most gorgeous cookie and the title got stolen from under me. We’d watch Rudolph and Santa Claus is Coming to Town, quoting the familiar lines, laughing at the cheesy claymation, and all the while making memories that would seem more like home than home itself.
I loved everything about the season. The “cold” weather (which meant you could wear a hoodie in Florida) and the stress of finding the perfect gift. The Chrismas Eve gift exchange between my brothers and the candlelight service at the church we went to once a year (sorry, God). The tattered old pop-up book that held the poem, “Twas the night before Christmas, that we were only allowed to open once a year, on Christmas Eve night. I loved popping the champagne. I loved opening the stockings. And most of all, I loved looking around the living room, fireplace a blazing, on December 25th each and every year to see the people I loved most in the world smiling back at me, happy, healthy, and safe.
No matter what happened in life, Christmas was always the magical time. The special time. The time when everyone put their shit aside and just existed in that perfect limbo. It didn’t matter how school was going or how our relationships were going. All that mattered was we had that time to be with each other, love each other, and take part in the traditions that we all hold so close to our family.
What happens, however, when that limbo doesn’t exist for you? When that limbo is snatched away from you?
I’m not ready to go into the hows and the whys. What matters, though, is that for some people, hell, for a lot of people, there are some painful hows and whys for their holidays not being the same this year. Why there’s no place like home this holiday, not even home.
Maybe it’s a death, lingering over your first holiday without a loved one, or an illness that makes you fear the bleakness of a future holiday. Maybe mental illness has gripped your family, stripping it of its comfort. A divorce or a feud or money issues — whatever it is, it’s drifted over this happy time, turning the reds and greens and blues and whites into grey. Turning what was supposed to be happy into a reminder of how unhappy things are.
Whatever it is, it’s different. Painful. Scary, even. Scary because things are different and scary because instead of being filled with the joy and love of the season, you’re filled with something darker. A sense of loss for what you used to have, and a sense of longing for what you thought would always be there.
The point is, the songs are true. There really is no place like home for the holidays. But for some people, going home for the holidays this year, or every year, doesn’t give them that feeling of magic. Of wonder. And if dealing with painful shit as everyone decorates trees and stresses about shopping is hard, thinking you’re the only one standing in a sea of sadness and grief is enough to make it torture.
So, friends, I just want you to know: You truly are not alone. Whether this year is hard because of a subtle change, like Santa no longer coming, or because of a much larger one, like a loved one missing or having to have extra room on the couch for an illness, know that just like the season, this too shall pass. But as you’re trying to get by, hoping for a moment or two of solace, know that no matter how beautiful the Instagram feeds are, plenty of other people feel just as isolated as you.
And while it’s natural to mourn over what the holiday used to mean, hold hope for what it will again. There’s a reason songs like “Blue Christmas,” exist. With happiness and change comes sadness and loss. And just because every holiday isn’t magical, it doesn’t mean they won’t be again. So, enjoy the beautiful moments you get, and accept the sad ones, all the while remembering that just because you feel alone, you’re truly not. And just because the world seems dark, one day, one holiday soon, the lights will be turned back on. And the best part is? Even if your life and your holiday are shit, you can fake it on Instagram, rake in the likes, and no one will know the difference. And at the end of it all, isn’t that what truly matters?.
Respond
Rachel Varina
if it doesn't have snack or seats, i'm not there. hate mail/Sunny references can be sent to itsrachelvarina@gmail.com
@rachelvarina
@rachelvarina
God bless you RV. Everyone needs to hear stuff like this from time to time. “You are not alone” might be some of the most important words someone in a struggle needs to hear, IMO. I know when I’ve had some of my darkest times it’s been when I’ve felt alone. While I hope everyone has the best possible Christmas as far as fun and presents go, I also urge you to always think about and care for your friends and family that might be struggling, even if their battle is something you see is unimportant or small, let them know that they are not alone. Merry Christmas ya filthy animals
Thank you for this. My mom passed away when I was 18 and I have a very strained relationship with my dad and his new wife. Seeing everyone with their families around this time does make me sad and long for that familial connection. I don’t go “home for the holidays” because I no longer have that childhood home to go to. So I appreciate this piece because it’s easy to forget that I’m not alone out there and other people have also been dealt a shitty hand of cards in life.
We gotchu, Bill.
I haven’t been home for Christmas in over a decade. I adopted my wife’s family(or they adopted me) way back when we started dating. Hope you have a similar situation with your special lady friend.
Thanks dude, yeah they really have and it means a lot.
Side note – congrats on the baby, hope you’re getting at least a few hours of sleep a night at this point.
Gracias.
No, YOU’RE crying!
In the immortal words of Charlie Brown,
“I just don’t understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I’m still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed”
“Maybe mental illness has gripped your family, stripping it of its comfort.”
Yeah, this is hard to handle.
This reads as sarcastic. It isn’t. Mental illness sucks and causes rifts between family members that probably won’t ever be fixed.
It’s a real killer, sometimes.
That’s all too real. I have a family member who is severely bipolar and we had a major falling out recently and due to the complications of that illness (long story) I don’t think we’ll ever get along like we used to. It really does suck.
I have a step brother that’s in such bad shape he’s become totally alienated. Very sad. 🙁
Needed this and thank you.
Idk if you’ll see this, Rachel, but reading this really helped me today. Thank you and Happy Holidays.
Really needed this. It’s been this way for years. I don’t ever think it was totally right in my family. Something happened to my mom on Christmas growing up so it’s like there’s never been actual joy. ❤️
Thank you for this, Rachel, because I think every post grad can probably find some way to relate. That’s one of the hard transitions into adulthood, realizing that there’s a stream of tough shit headed your way a lot of time. It’s also all the more reason to get with the people you love and find a way to escape from the hard stuff if even only for a few hours.
“And while it’s natural to mourn over what the holiday used to mean, hold hope for what it will again.” This hit so close to home. My brother passed away on Thanksgiving a few years ago and the whole holiday season has been less than stellar since then but each year it does get a little bit easier. Thanks for this, Rachel.