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The Maiden, The Mother, The Wise Elder
A personal reflection of life on the threshold of elder
This is my first year alone during the holidays.
Honestly, I’m not really sure how I feel about it. There is sadness moving through me. My eyes tingle and burn from holding back tears. But, at the same time, I am relieved. While I miss my family, I’m glad there’s no pressure or stress to do anything. I feel that if I let the tears go, I’m rejecting the blessings I’ve been given — like a child at Christmas crying for the gifts they didn’t get. My kids are launched — an aspiration come true.
There are societal ideals and family-related expectations of the season, which I’m untangling to understand how I truly feel in my heart and soul. Truth-be-told, Christmas was magical when my kids were young, later becoming an obligation as they were aging out — the lie of Santa, overspending, accumulation, scurrying, and overwhelm. And being married to and then later divorced from an alcoholic spouse, holidays — every day, really — were a heavy responsibility, caring for everything and everyone all the time. Holidays magnified it all. I am thankful that is behind me.
When my kids got older, we found our own traditions, and Christmas became a time for connecting in conversation, sharing meals, going for long walks, and…
