I Don’t Want to go Home for Christmas

Literally Literary and The Writing Cooperative prompt

Life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Let me rephrase that, life rarely turns out the way you want it to. Or even… Life never turns out the way you want it to.

I love Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday along with Easter. I love the remembrance and celebration of God coming to earth in the form of a baby. I love that despite there being no room in the inn, Mary, Joseph, and Jesus found rest with the animals and shepherds. I love hearing children sing Christmas carols. I love the festive cheer people share with one another. And I love spending time with my family in Indiana, who I live a few thousand miles away from.

I’ve had an intermittent fever for a month now along with a head cold, flu, and ringworm. Gross, I know, right? I’m not sure if it’s my body excreting the emotional pain and stress of this past year or if it’s simply the weather changing. I’ve spent countless hours at the doctor getting needles all over my body in hopes of getting it balanced so I can safely travel home. It seems easier just to stay in Portland, Oregon but when you buy a $750 plane ticket, you don’t really want to see it go unused.

But despite the untimely sickness, there’s another reason not to go home for Christmas. Because it’s sad.

“What makes Christmas and being with your family sad?” one might ask.

It’s sad because, well, it’s not what it was supposed to be.

The three siblings, me and my two older sisters were supposed to be celebrating with our families. Our children were supposed to be best friends. There were supposed to be more than 5 of us.

There’s a sadness that comes when opening gifts that should be for your ‘children’ but you’re still the children. There’s a sadness that comes when you all still fit in the same van. There’s a grave sadness that comes as we remember our dear brother-in-law, son-in-law, and my sister’s husband who passed away in his young thirties.

And so, I don’t really want to go home for Christmas.

But there’s also a sweet 104 year old lady, my grandmother, who keeps living and looking up. And there’s the rest of my family who continues to be brave and overcome the sadness to celebrate a holiday together. And that’s reason enough. So I’ll be there. Because, what is a holiday, if not spent with those you love.