Bah Humbug

      I didn't always hate Christmas. I used to love everything about it. Shopping, baking, gift giving, service, parties, carolling, the Nativity, family time, snow, sledding, ice skating, hot coco, Christmas trees, decorating, I loved everything. My husband is a "no Christmas decorations before Dec 1st" kind of guy.  Through November I would slowly sneak decorations in around the house hoping he wouldn't notice, he always did, but it was a game we would play.  Near the begging of December we'd head up to the mountains to find the perfect tree. I really did love Christmas.


      We all can imagine how hard the holidays are for someone who has lost a loved one. But can you imagine what its like to have lost your loved one on Christmas? The most spiritual and magical day of the year. A time of hope, miracles, love and giving. Christmas is not supposed to be a time for taking.

      It starts around September. When the stores start filling with Christmas decor. When people start sharing memes with a countdown to Christmas. It becomes impossible to escape Christmas. So I begin to hide. I rarely go into a store and if I do I try to not be alone for fear of melting down in the middle of Costco like I did last year. My anxiety, that I can usually manage the rest of the year, goes through the roof. I get shaky, high blood pressure, nauseated, irritable, emotional and can't sleep.  By mid November I realize that I haven't even thought about Christmas shopping for anyone. I have 5 kids that need to have a better Christmas than I ever will again.  This is about when the guilt sets in. I feel like I'm ruining their Christmas and in turn taking away a magical part of their childhood.  I convince my husband to come help me shop because there is no way I can do it myself.  We ditch the kids with their aunt for a few hours and blitz the city trying to keep my anxiety under control and pretend that I'm ok. But I'm not. I hate Christmas.

      This is what Christmas means to me...

        Christmas 2015. It was the last day our family was together. It was the last day I was whole. It was the day I said goodbye to my mom. It was the day 25 innocent children lost the only women in the world who could possibly love them more than their own mothers. It was the day my whole world was flipped upside down. It was the day we didn't get our Christmas miracle. It was the day that life was taken and not given. It was the day that I lost faith and hope. Instead of all the things that Christmas used to mean to me, Christmas now means hurt, anger, grief, emptiness, loneliness, red swollen eyes, anxiety, regret, and guilt.  If she had passed away a week early or a week later, maybe the word "Christmas" wouldn't be such a punch in the gut. Maybe we could get through this holiday with a few less tears.

    My mom always taught us to look for the silver lining in every situation. Christmas 2015 was the last day our entire family was together. (minus one bro in law who was out of the country visiting his dad who was going through his own health issues . He was able to be there with face time) Six kids plus spouses, plus 25 grandkids gathered in a family room in the hospital. We exchanged gifts, ate  treats, took some photos (the one above) and visited with each other. My mom had been busy in the months leading up to Christmas. She knew her time was limited and wanted to do what she called a "keepsake Christmas"  She spent a lot of time thinking about each and every person and their roles in the family. She gave each of us a necklace. Each of them are different. Some were engraved with a special message. Each and every one was hand picked for the person it was meant for. They all have immense meaning and love behind them. I won't go into more detail about them here, I feel they are too personal.   Shortly after my mom was not feeling well and was taken back to her room. We helped clean up, went to her room to say goodbye, promised to be back to visit in a couple days then drove the 2 1/2 hours home to a second Christmas party at my in-laws house. The whole time being so grateful that we were able to spend this day together as a family, and having so much hope for a miracle for my mom.

     We opened presents, got the kids tucked in bed, visited for a little while then on our way to bed we got a call. At first it was my sister telling me that something was happening and she was on her way back to the hospital and she'd let me know what was going on once she got there. We started getting ready in case we had to leave again. A few minutes later I got another call. It was my aunt this time. To this day I can't hear her voice with out hearing the words "Krissy...you need to come. There's not much time..you need to come."   We let Nate's parents know we were leaving and drove the 2 1/2 hours back to Calgary.  There was snow on the ground, I can remember that. We drove as fast as we could praying we wouldn't get pulled over. That was the longest 2 hours of my life. And the quietest. I don't think either Nate or I said a single word the entire drive. I can't really remember though, I just remember feeling like I was going to throw up, but it would never come.

      When we finally arrived at the hospital, my brother and his wife were waiting for us downstairs. They greeted us with hugs and tears. I remember squeaking out "is she gone?"  He assured me that she was still here, they were trying to keep her comfortable but it wouldn't be long. We rushed upstairs and each of us were allowed a few minutes alone with her to say what we needed to say. To say I love you and Good bye.  I was frozen, I just sat there starring. I didn't know what to say. This isn't fair!! This isn't ok!! It Christmas for gods sake! Where is our miracle?! I finally was able to mutter a few words and then kissed her goodbye. She looked at me and told me she loved me. That was the last thing my mom said to me.

    Once everyone got their few minutes,  all 12 of us gathered with my dad around my moms bed in a shared hospital room, with a roommate who kept farting and snoring loudly.(my mom also taught us to find humour in stressful situations)   My mom was surrounded by her children and loving husband when she passed quickly and quietly into the night.

    As I look back, there are so many tender mercies throughout Christmas 2015. We were able to gather as a family. We were able to give gifts. My mom was able to give us her gifts. We were able to be with my mom as she passed. She knew we all loved her, and we knew she loved us. We were able to say goodbye, its a gift that most people don't get.  But even so Christmas will never be what it once was. Its the day I have to relive the worst day of my life.   So if you don't see me for a while know that its not you, its me. I'm hiding. Or if you do see me and I'm in a dark alley in Costco bawling and hyperventilating, please don't think I'm a crazy person, but a hug would be nice.

    

Kristen

 For those who don't know.. My mom, Laura Bevans, had an autoimmune condition called Pulmonary Fibrosis where her immune system attacked her lungs causing scar tissue, in turn causing her to not be able to breathe. She fought this stupid disease for nearly 6 years before it took her life. She needed a life saving lung transplant. It never came. She was on the lung transplant list for a few years. Alberta, where we live, has the lowest organ donation rate in Canada. With new legislation this is slowly changing and more Albertans are signing up to be organ donors. More awareness needs to be brought to the need for organ donation, and our family has made it our mission to spread awareness when/wherever we can. If you are reading this, please consider becoming an organ donor. And please share your wishes with your family.  My mom taught us from a young age about organ donation. Long before she got sick it was her wish to be an organ donor if ever such a situation arose. And although she never received the life saving lung transplant that she needed, she was able to give the gift of sight through cornea transplantation after her passing. There really is no one like my mom. She literally is superwoman and she is missed every second of every day.