Wednesday, December 25, 2013

A very blessed Christmas





I was dreading the approach of Christmas, let alone Christmas Eve. Sure, we were all excited about Christmas coming up, but it’s so hard to get through the holidays with my mom being gone. I keep telling myself that I can STILL “talk” to my mom on Christmas; it’ll just have to be with my heart. But that doesn’t make it any easier. And the fact that I had an emotional breakdown over the weekend and just cried my heart out because I miss my mom so much did not help, either.

But here we are, at Christmas. And I’ve managed okay so far. It has definitely been a big help to have some wonderful friends around who have offered comfort and support. I’m so glad we got to see them in the days leading up to Christmas. Seeing these dear friends again just warmed my heart and it was good to have a shoulder to lean on, too. They are awesome friends and I am so grateful they are in our lives!

I ended up waking up at 4 a.m. today. I ALWAYS wake up first on Christmas, which is a good thing because I usually have extra little gifties to slip into stockings. But the reason why I woke up so early was because I was really thirsty. I got up to get a glass of water, let the dog out and to put the stocking stuffers into their designated stockings. After all that, I went back to bed, hoping to get some more sleep. But a sadness came over my heart as I lied in my darkened bedroom. I whispered to the darkness, “Merry Christmas, Mom.” I stayed still just for a bit, thinking of how much I wished I could hug her, then just as I looked down, I was surprised to see the back of someone walking past my open door! At first, I thought it was Jennifer, because this was a female with short brown hair, but the thing of it was ... this “person” was all white and transparent! A lit-up kind of person! Like an angel.

No way, I thought. It’s Jennifer. Jennifer is awake. That’s it.

I climbed out of bed and walked out of my room. I hurriedly went through the hall and saw no one in the family or living room. I went through the kitchen, the entry way and the other rooms. No one was there.

I went back to bed, thinking this over. Had I really just seen what I thought I’d seen? And had it been who I thought it was?

Well, I liked to think so. That was a nice thought.

Eventually, I did go back to sleep. I had a very disturbing dream, though. I dreamed I walked out to the Christmas tree and saw a woman’s face in one of the ornaments. Her face was very transparent, almost like a ghost. She had short light-colored hair. The image faded then I was back in my room. I was in bed trying to sleep but a strange sensation came over me that kept shaking me. Like something was possessing me. When I awoke from that dream, I saw a red bar on my wall.

Now, I must confess, I have been nervous about the Christmas tree suddenly catching on fire the whole time it’s been there. So I was alarmed when I saw that red light on my wall, thinking that was a reflection from a fire down the hallway! I raced out of my room to look around the house but, thankfully, there was no fire. Phew! Then I thought maybe there was a fire at my neighbor’s house. I opened the blinds to look out the window, but no, no fire! I was relieved but really puzzled. I went back to bed, back to sleep.
 


When I awoke again, I decided I’d gotten enough sleep so I got out of bed for good. And, wouldn’t you know, that was the same time Jesse woke up! We wished each other a Merry Christmas then woke Jennifer up. Then we woke their father up. We all trudged out to the living room (well, Jesse RAN out to the living room!), sat down and decided who would play Santa this year. That decision made, we all proceeded to open our gifts.

If I had any ounce of sadness left, it disappeared as I watched my children open their gifts. There was just so much joy and happiness among us all during that time. We were all excited and happy with our gifts. Jesse got a new bike and Jennifer got a bunch of Doctor Who stuff. I got an espresso machine, JCPenney gift card, chocolates, a wolf picture, new purse and the movie Argo. I was bummed that I didn't get any books or a gift card for books, but later I got free ebooks via Smashwords and that made me happy. Thank you, Smashwords!

After the gift thing and thanking people for our gifts, I made breakfast of bacon and cinnamon rolls. Then I took Jesse next door to give his friend a Christmas gift as well as a tin of cookies to our friends. After that, Jennifer left with her dad to hand out cookies she baked for the homeless.

Last night, Jen and her dad baked a cake for our Christmas dessert, and it’s back to the kitchen for me to make our Christmas dinner of ham, potatoes, corn and dinner rolls. We can’t wait to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special tonight, and I’ll be drinking a delicious espresso while I watch it.



Today turned out to be a good one, filled with family, friends and a little bit of Christmas magic. I am also glad my 20-year-old Chihuahua was able to spend just one more Christmas with us.

Merry Christmas! 

2 comments:

Martha Jette said...

Sounds like you had a wonderful Christmas Dawn. Friends and family really make it special.
But in your case, you had a special visitor and it likely was your mom who dropped in to make sure you were all right. When we mourn our loved ones and cry our hearts out, they know it. Also, spirits who return often look like a white, sparkling form, just as you saw.
Continue to talk to your mom. She will hear you. But don't mourn too long or you could be holding her to the physical world. It is important that at some point when she knows you're okay, that she can move on.
Take care,
Martha

Dawn Colclasure said...

Thanks, Martha. :) Yes, it was a good Christmas. I must say, I felt so much lighter and happier after that experience. And, on the following evening, for the first time in a long time, I slept peacefully through the night. I didn't wake up once and I wasn't scared at all. I think maybe my mom's visit might've had something to do with that. :) Thanks for the reminder of the dangers of being unable to move forward in our grief. It is so important. Take care.