Auld Lang Syne

Every Christmas season before this one, getting a tree home and standing was a task I thought needed assistance, be it from an (ex) husband, my dad or a male friend. And, often begrudgingly, I asked for that help. But not this year. This year my girls and I went alone, picked out the perfect tree on our first try, and got it home and standing all by ourselves. So what’s the big deal about bringing home a tree by yourself, Kat? I mean, it’s a friggin tree. I’ve certainly done far more challenging things without anyone’s assistance so I know it may seem insignificant. But to me, it’s far more significant.

This time of year, we’re bombarded with endless commercials – someone gleefully receiving the latest toy, gadget or car tied with a big red bow; fairytale proposals and the sparkliest of diamonds to go with them; kids opening presents on Christmas morning with both parents looking on blissfully in their matching pjs.  And it is the one time of year that I truly struggle with the lack of these things in my life. While I had previously accepted all of this as just part of my life’s journey, this year I’m actually embracing it. I finally realize that Christmas isn’t any less, well, Christmasy merely because I won’t be untying big red bows, or don’t have romantic love in my life, or won’t get to watch my girls open presents Christmas morning. I’ve dreaded the holidays for quite a few years now. But this night, sipping some Cabernet while watching Love Actually with that tree in my peripheral, I’m finally letting it all go. No longer will I yearn for that extra set of hands to help carry the tree, or the big box tied with the red bow, or the sparkly promise of happily ever after.

I am enough. Always have been, always will be.