A celebrated birth, loss, and hope
I just returned home from a departmental Christmas party. It was very nice indeed to see my colleagues in such a relaxed atmosphere, because the luxury of relaxing in our business doesn't occur nearly often enough. But on a personal level, however, these past few years have been difficult to bear, particularly around Christmas time.
First, let me state that my department is not typical, as it is comprised of public safety personnel who are no strangers to disaster, illness, injury, and death. When we congregate it is definitely not your average office party. Second, although I am happy to see them in such a state, I find that I cannot yet fully immerse myself in such festive ambiance, can't quite unburden myself of a profound sense of loss. It may be that the celebration of our Savior's birth will always be thus for me, for I lost my beloved at this time not so very long ago.
Isolation and vulnerability
Living alone as I do, I have ample opportunity each evening to ponder the fact that my children and their own families are so near, yet rarely available to share their time. This is not a sojourn into self-pity but rather a factual observation. It is at times such as the Christmas holiday, however, when this fact coupled with Irene's passing tend to become burdensome and lay heavily on my heart.
I truly understand how people who live alone may feel particularly isolated and vulnerable during this time; I know that those who are fortunate enough to be with loved ones -- their spouse, children, parents, or grandparents -- really do not and cannot fathom the depth of such an experience, the keenness of such loneliness. And that is a good thing in itself; It is good that most people cannot and will not have to deal with such things, especially so whilst celebrating the birth of Jesus.
And so it is that during such happy occasions I attempt to be as unobtrusive as possible...try not to impose upon the gaiety of the moment so that others do not have their well-deserved respites from more serious matters deflated.
Reflect and refocus
But afterward, during times of reflection such as this, I remind myself that amidst all of the excess and joviality, we celebrate something at Christmas that was anything but festive. We honor a birth that occurred on a cold night in a violent land, ruled by a despot determined to see Him dead in a feckless attempt to save a throne from prophesy. If ever someone could relate to isolation and loneliness, surely it was Jesus.
This thought compels me to focus anew. When I am tempted to think that Christmas is now a moment for others, for people unlike me who share this special time with loved ones, I attempt to replace my despondency with a feeling induced by a different perspective.
Perhaps celebrating the birth of Christ is exactly for people just like me, after all.