A couple of nights ago, Andy removed much of our outdoors holiday light display, leaving only remnants of bush netting with lights that might discreetly pass undetected during any roadside scrutiny from the HOA until he has enough spare time to finish the job. Inside our home, three deflated stockings still grace the walls…and one is crumpled on the dining room table next to me as I write. Our still fully decorated tree is rising admonishingly behind the screen of my laptop as my keyboard clicks out a melody not found in the hymns of the season just past. This is, after all, January 9th, 2020- sufficiently removed from both Christmas and New Years to have transformed these elements of holiday cheer into marginally tacky reminders of a schedule stretched far too tightly. If they manage to remain until Valentine’s day, I may really need to hang my head.
All around me then for the past month or so, I have been seeing The Ghosts of Christmas Left Behind. Perhaps though I might have needed the visit of different ghosts than the ones that came, having found lately that my thinking has been aligning a bit more with Scrooge in that “a bit of unbroken rest” might bolster my emotional well-being more than trying to find a way to squeeze my way through holiday happenings. Ever since Tony started taking Guanfacine for his ADHD, more common are the mid-nights where he and I are up for 2-3 hours. More than fourteen months into that, between my generally inadequate sleep and the year’s other impactful main events, by the time the traditional mandates of this year’s Christmas season were tapping at my shoulder, I was feeling far too exhausted to give anything more than a nod of recognition to the ghost of when I used to enjoy holiday celebrations more.
In our family, this year’s Christmas celebrations were a topic of more discussion than usual. Andy, Hannah, and I each chose for ourselves to resign our memberships to our former church. We each understood that any choice we made would be supported and honored by the other nuclear members of our small family unit. Tony, being beneath the age of baptism for that church, was never officially a member, though they did create a record for him- which was expunged at my request.
While respecting the rights of others to believe and celebrate as they choose, we all felt very strongly about what we did and there are some aspects of our former Christmas celebrations that were directly related to the culture and expectations of our previous church. None of us wanted to carry those forward. And still the ghost of certain social aspects of this did reach out through an awareness of what was missing secondary to the reactions of others to these resignations. The chilly fingerings of that past may have aimed to achieve different outcomes, but instead I will continue to embrace the warm and living friendships I can still cherish.
Typically, we decorate our tree on the evening of the day we have our Thanksgiving lunch. This year, however, I was too tired and none of this was accomplished until December 1st. We like listening to Christmas songs and having treats whilst we accomplish all of this, but for the sake of gaining Tony’s cooperation we ended up putting on Christmas-themed Super Simple Songs. The treats were shadowy remembrances from previous years that were eaten by my inability to muster enough physical and emotional energy for a complete charge towards the holidays.
Santa Shark, anybody? 
We lit the first candle of an Advent wreath gifted us by my brother-in-law, Eric- and then forgot to light the next candles on time for two of the remaining Sundays before Christmas. We watched an assortment of holiday movies. Hannah and I went to see The Nutcracker by Ballet AZ. That remains one of my favorite holiday traditions, and I am grateful for Andy’s support in getting us there. My honey went with Tony and I for a walk after we got back home, and our little man was more emotional about my absence of several hours and needed a lot of squeezes to calm him down during the walk.
I plastered on festive makeup, decorated a gingerbread house with Hannah, and embraced a study recently reported on in the media that indicated people had lower expectations for poorly wrapped presents. I definitely dug in to applying the information gleaned from that study 😉 I went to worship services at First Church the Sunday before Christmas, but did not seek to attend much else of a religious nature. I personally don’t believe anybody’s sermons, however eloquent, hold the key to my eternal welfare at this point and I show up for religious observances only when it works well for the other circumstances in my life.
Christmas Eve 
I met my good friend Gena for breakfast one morning before Christmas, and we exchanged small presents and our well-wishes for the holidays. I have said it before and it remains unchanged: I treasure our friendship. Her friendship is more than gift enough, but she also gave me a gift card to Barnes & Noble. I got myself a holiday-themed vegan cookbook with that, and I used two of the recipes for our Christmas dinner. I generally eat vegan at this point about 98% of the time. I’m not particularly obsessive about avoiding dairy products at all cost, so I can’t claim to be completely there. I did manage to feel the ghost of excitement in this book for the array of recipes provided that match up with different holiday celebrations. I am looking forward to finding new favorites to rotate through our festivities.
For Tony, I think I can accurately say he’s distinctly less fond of Christmas. Members of his therapy team often take extended amounts of time off, which disrupts his schedule. I do the best I can to fill in the blanks, working on activities and skills with him, but a change is a change. Tony dislikes change, and wishes it could be a ghost that gets permanently left behind. His developmental pediatrician increased the dose on his ADHD meds just before Christmas, and this seemed to initiate a fresh wave of lengthier sleep disturbances and other challenges that shall be discussed in an upcoming post. I became more deeply tormented by the ghost of a good night’s sleep.
Interestingly enough, this is the first year our little man genuinely loved all of his gifts. For his stocking stuffer, I got him a new hand massager. He uses them underneath his chin when he’s trying to calm himself. I wish I could have caught the full light of his initial smile when he pulled it out, but I wasn’t quick enough with my phone. We also got him some super soft blankets, and his laughter rang louder than any bell as he pulled them out of the box and over himself. He was also quite happy with his small digital movie budget for the rest of his gift. I notice what he tries to buy himself on his kindle and then purchase that for him on Google Play. Hannah wishes for privacy about her holiday present experience, but our love and care for her in this and all things will never be a ghost in our hearts.
As the events of this holiday burnt down to ashes and the calendar moved towards New Years, I felt hints of a more complicated collage of emotions that peeked through the sleep deprivation. There was joy that the holiday was more successful for Tony. There was sadness and inadequacy for the things I wanted to get done but didn’t. Hannah and I have already discussed some things she would like us to try for next year. I am hoping those too don’t become the ghost of plans never realized.
Usually nobody in our community wants to be haunted for any holiday outside of Halloween, and yet I feel that I was- by the Ghosts of Christmas Left Behind. There was much to celebrate that remained, but I am hoping to be visited by future holidays that will feel like more than a perfunctory enactment of cherished traditions forced past congealed weariness. Perhaps all that is needed is a good year’s worth of sleep…
