Hope

"Once you choose hope, anything is possible."--Christopher Reeve

Less than a week away from Thanksgiving. Christmas is just around the corner. Maelin and I have already set up the pink Christmas tree in her room and she's been bugging me for weeks to set up the big one. As our new place is rather small, we've been debating about where it's going to go. Her vote is in front of the TV. I've been trying to explain to her that that's not the best idea, but she's determined. I think we'll have to negotiate that one.

I have more hope this Christmas than last year around this time. I remember spending a lot of time mourning the fact that it was our first Christmas without our mom. My mom LOVED Christmas: one of her favorite things to do was to buy these ridiculous puzzle boxes and throw gift cards in them for us. Anyone who knows me knows I have NO patience whatsoever, so I never even tried to attempt to open the darn things. My brother was a huge fan though and I have many years of memories of him sitting there doggedly trying to open the box and he always would: and the smile on Mom's face was awesome. She was so happy to be able to do fun things like that with us.

Another fun tradition was for her to take us to the Nutcracker every year. We've done it almost every year that I can remember. In fact: that's one of the last times we were out together in public two years ago before she got really sick. I have a treasured picture of us at the show and even though you can tell she's not feeling her best, she's wearing the largest smile. In that spirit, we've got a whole gaggle of people going to the Nutcracker with us this year! In all, we've got about 10 people: my aunt and her girls, our whole family, and some dear family friends. Even though I'm sad that it's another year my mom won't be joining us and I'm wishing she could watch the joy on Maelin's face when the Sugar Plum Fairy dances, I'm hopeful that this will be the start of many fun family memories for Mae. That was always my mom's favorite part and Maelin has already picked out which tutu she's going to wear to show so she can dance "just like the pretty ballet girl." It's going to be bittersweet, but I feel so blessed that my family will all be together for that night.

My sister is coming out to visit from CA and she and all my siblings and kids are spending the night on Christmas Eve and we're going to try to create a real "Christmas Morning" for the kiddos. I have a fireplace, so we'll make cookies and write the letter to Santa and do the whole bit with candies and Skittles in the stockings that we never got to do when we were kids. My younger sister is doing the cooking (thank God, as I'm not the best cook: I tend to even burn pans), and my older sister and her kids are performing "The Night Before Christmas" for all of us. My mom happened to record that book for all the kids right before she passed away, so we'll actually have her voice there to narrate.

Hope is a tricky thing. Too much of it, and you tend to live in a constant state of denial. Not enough of it, and you become a bitter pessimist who is pretty certain of how miserable life is and how nothing is good enough. I think I've got a much better understanding and grasp of hope these days. I'm hopeful that this holiday season will be better than last years' and I can finally put my grief to rest. I'm hopeful that Maelin will be able to look past my imperfections and my bad days and remember her childhood with a happy, joyful heart. I'm hopeful that I will finally be able to become the mom, teacher, and friend that I'm meant to be.

I'm thinking that the holidays are going to have their times of longing, sadness, grief, and wistful thinking. But I'm hopeful that I can use those emotions to spurn a desire to create something magical for myself and my family.

And maybe by this time next year: I'll be writing about joy, magic, love, friendship, and possibilities.

I'll keep hoping.