Friday, December 14, 2012 was a sobering day for us as Americans, us as humans, and us as a family. Innocent children lost their lives and families lost their loved ones. Kids had to watch their teachers and best friends die in front of them and they were stripped of any innocence they had left, at only five and six years old. We read statements and articles in tears, horrified by the reality of the situation, and with crystalline awareness that it could have been any of our kids, any one of our own babies in school, no matter how old. Anyone who thought their child was safe behind the closed doors of his classroom. Anyone expecting one more week of school and then a nice long winter break spent making memories of family gatherings, baking with young children, the pure innocent joy of being five, six, or seven and seeing what waits under the Christmas tree on the morning of the 25th.
So we decided to spend the weekend making Christmas. It's hard as a mom to wholeheartedly engage in the holiday spirit with the knowledge that there are other mothers right now planning exactly which day this holiday season will be best to lay her own child to rest. Other mothers with a pile of hidden presents for her daughter, her son, with no idea what to do with them now. But I'm not those moms. And those were not my kids. I have to remember that. We all do - as moms, as dads, as parents to our own children who are in the here and now. They don't understand our sadness over children we don't know. They don't comprehend our lack of enthusiasm over a holiday for which they overflow with excitement. And for that reason, I put the bad aside. Does that mean I don't think about it? No. I have plenty of time at work for quiet thought and working out my own issues with that situation. It means that I choose my child. I choose to treasure and value every single moment I have with him because you don't know when it might be your last. And I choose to look at the excitement and joy he has in his eyes because it won't be long before current events dampen his unadulterated innocence. I choose to make Christmas with J because I want him to have the same amazing memories I have of my childhood. I want him to look back and tell his kids that we had great times when he was little, and I want him to do the same for his own babies.
MAKING CHRISTMAS
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