There's No Grief In Santa

Last year was the first year my Mother didn’t recognize me at all . . . not even a glimmer. I’d been expecting Alzheimer’s to take away her ability to recognize my face, but wasn’t really prepared.

That was the first Christmas it seemed to make no difference whether or not I called my Mom for the holidays since she didn’t know whether it was Christmas or St. Swithens Day, whether it was me or the Easter Bunny. She’d long since forgotten what the telephone was and what those noises coming into her ear were.

Christmas was always a big deal for Mom and me. She’d come home from work with a fiendish grin as she scurried down the hall to hide my gifts (which she hid so well that, long before Alzheimer’s took hold, we’d be finding gifts into Valentine’s Day). I always loved trying to find the perfect things for her, something that’d show how much I love her, something to make her feel pampered and special. I particularly loved wrapping Mom’s gifts. We always exchanged multiple cards and I’d begun putting a hankie in the “mushiest” one to dab her Christmas tears of joy.

For Christmas 2008, I was longing for some Christmas spirit and for someone to buy a gift for, to wrap it and to imagine the happiness that gift would bring. Then my friend declared she’d created a holiday challenge for herself (and her friends, friends of friends) to get gifts for 100 kids through New York Cares Winter Wishes program. What it really was, was a gift to my heart, another demonstration that it truly is better to give than to receive, and that it is through giving that we receive much more.

I got to shop for just the right super-ultra PlayDoh, beg the salesperson on the phone to hold the last game of Super Uno Flash for me until I got to the store after work, and experience that grin I used to see on my Mom’s face when she smuggled home the perfect gift, anticipating the delight it would bring.

My Mom died this August. I’ll add another child to be Santa for in her honor. It provides so much comfort and joy to hold the handmade letters to Santa in my hand, reading over the simple wish lists, choosing just the right gifts, wrapping them, shipping them off and imagining the Christmas morning grins.

Someone once wrote, “don’t focus on what you’ve lost, focus on what you have left.”

Now, what the heck is a tech deck?!

Advent Calendars

In the Christian tradition, the season of Advent heralds Christmas and starts on the Sunday closest to November 30 and continues for four Sundays. 

Being Catholic(ish) . . . we made up our own rules.  Thus, Advent started on December 1 (I never could quite figure out why some years I had more windows to open on my Advent calendar . . . ).  Every year, Mom would come home from work with my Advent calendar (and even mailed them to me long into my thirties).  Whether she brought my calendar home on December 1 or 3 or Thanksgiving . . . it didn't matter and the season of glee had begun. 

Every day I'd pop open a little window to see what was inside.  There was no looking ahead - otherwise God would know you cheated!  That's it - nothing but anticipation and a little sparkly picture of something different every day.

It was our little tradition and it was a daily reminder of the spirit of Christmas . . . wonder, joy, traditions, love, family.

To honor Mom this year and share this tradition with you, I've posted links to some online Advent calendars:

A Bach Christmas calendar

Advent around the world calendar

Advent history and traditions calendar

Christmas stocking Advent calendar

Medieval Advent calendar

North Pole advent calendar


Perhaps you'll start your own tradition and pick one up at the card store on the way home . . .

Thanks, Mom.  You still are the spirit of Christmas.