Coping with the Holidays

My beloved Granny died on Christmas day many years ago. I remember going to the hospital in the morning, as we were visiting Al’s family later than afternoon. I walked into her room and she wasn’t there. I’d seen the flowers I’d sent out at the nurse’s station, so I had a foreboding feeling, but not trusting my intuition I asked a nurse if she’d gone for tests. Although there were no more tests and we all knew it. Granny was DNR and under hospice care.

Driving home, I wondered why I hadn’t gotten a call from my mom. I told Al I couldn’t face a party and he stayed home with me. We tried calling everyone in my family but nobody was answering phones. We went to my grandparents’ home, where there had been so many wonderful Christmases, and my grandfather answered the door. He looked dazed but stoic. Before we left that day, I had a much better understanding of how far his dementia had gone. Granny had kept that to herself.

Since then Christmas has been hit or miss for me. Some years it’s wonderful and some years it sucks. This year it was more better than bad. I saw all my grandchildren. I saw my kids and my folks. I had trees in Florida and Michigan and Al was with me. He’s had most of the month off, saving all year to have this vacation time together with family. I could not have done any of it without him. My anxiety for whatever reason goes into hyper mode during the holidays. As much as I love them, I can’t navigate them alone near as well as I can with Al handling the tough stuff.

I’m blessed and I know it. But I’ve had awful Christmases alone and with others so I think about those people who may not be doing so great, for whatever reason, this season. I can’t speak to the horror so much of the world has to cope with right now, I can only tell you how I lightened a dreary mood upon my return from Florida. This is something anyone who has a tree, holiday decorations, and ornaments can do. It really helped me and maybe, when you start taking down your wreaths and angels and candles, it will help you too.

A few years ago there was a wildly popular book about the magic of tidying up. That might have been the title. I didn’t read it but I heard about the premise: take each item you own and hold it while feeling the emotion it evokes. Does it bring you joy? Is it useful? Keep it. If it doesn’t, donate it. I did that in a small way with my tree ornaments this year. We didn’t have any on the one in Florida, just lights. Then the kids came and we got two very special ones. I decided I wanted every ornament that went on my tree to give me joy. (Much easier than doing with every possession you own!)

So over the course of two days I whittled my 300 ornaments down to less than a hundred. What I found was that joy didn’t come from expensive ornaments. They didn’t have to be shiny or beautiful. Joy came from remembering who had given me the gift. My granny gave me an ornament one year when I first started teaching. When I held it, just as I held the ornaments from my children and grandchildren, I felt joy.

I donated the rest of the ornaments to Salvation Army in the hope that someone will find joy in all the dazzle that just didn’t spark for me anymore. And that’s my recipe for a little Christmas magic. It doesn’t work half as well if you just put the joyless ornaments in the basement. You need to give them away. Only then will your joy be complete. Until the next disaster. We all have them. But this year, I hope your burdens are light and your joy shines.

My Struggle

I have been trying to read the first in the memoir series called My Struggle by Karl Ove. I gave up after about a hundred pages. Maybe I’ll get back to it but I don’t think so. It’s really a guy’s book; I don’t enjoy reading about teenage male boners. He’s an interesting writer in that he gets so into detail and that part of the reading experience can be lovely. I also felt for him as he was a teen living alone and I too had been a teen living alone. The feeling I grew up with was that my family didn’t want me. They all lived in one house and I had my own little place my dad owned. At the time, I thought it was cool to be so free from authority, but honestly, deep inside I was lonely and could have used some support and guidance. So, I did relate to that part of Karl’s struggle.

Kind of went off on a tangent there. I really do have a struggle of my own I wanted to write about today. Looking at my last post I see I had totally one hundred percent failed to take into account that I would be on the road eating restaurant food for four days in December. I am afraid to weigh myself. I had actually batch cooked some food on my diet plan and meant to bring it in my cooler but Al got me up very early to hit the road ahead of rush hour and I forgot nearly everything.

You can’t eat plant-based whole foods in restaurants. I did my best. Wait. That’s a lie. I caved in by lunch and things just went downhill from there. I had to buy stronger medication as the Lactaid alone wasn’t cutting it. You know, one thing I learned early in life is to love myself and forgive myself. So I have done that. And I have gotten back on the right eating plan. But it took five days, because we don’t keep food in our house in Florida. Bugs like it when people leave for six months. So we had nothing, not even salt and pepper, when we finally got here.

I knew exactly what to shop for our first day here and I started eating my Starch Solutions meals. So that’s half a plate of potatoes, rice, or other whole grains, a quarter plate of veggies, and a quarter plate of fruit. Al eats what I do, plus he’ll grill salmon or chicken. He also will pick up treats for himself like KIND chocolate breakfast bars and Skinny Pop popcorn. He’ll say “Look! It’s vegan!” And it is, but I can’t eat it if I’m trying to lose weight. Or even just not gain.

This part is hard to say but you’ve heard it before. Wine and vodka mess with my body more than anything, but wine has been my go-to de-stressor forever and I’ve grown fond of the occasional martini. I keep reading books about how to be more moderate in my drinking. I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I just think I let myself have something if I really want it. And having a glass of wine always leads to two. Then I switch to water for the rest of the night. This is why I don’t think I have a serious drinking problem. I don’t drink until I pass out. I can stop after one or two drinks. I actually want to stop.

I might have a little problem, well, I know I do, because I make promises to myself and then I don’t keep them. Be it food or wine or whatever. Then I think, well, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re human. You’re 62 years old. You’re trying to completely change the way you eat. As for alcohol, some days I’d like to just quit drinking. Other days that feels like too harsh of a punishment. And every day I’d like to quit eating outside my diet. I feel so much better eating PBWF. It is the diet my body loves. Now that I’m here and set up for cooking and eating this way, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Most of the time.

The other thing is the kids are coming. My parents are coming today, just to visit. They have their own condo not far away, like literally five minutes. My mom has always been a healthy eater and she doesn’t drink so that’s a plus. I can make us a salad and she’ll be good with that. The kids, on the other hand, are coming to stay. Al and I are in the middle of changing my office into a guest room. Mike and Jessica love sushi and so I know I can serve that, but there are bound to be times when we are eating out as a family. I am overjoyed at the prospect of seeing little Julia (just six months old now) and Owen. And of course Mike and Jessica. My parents will be meeting Julia for the first time.

It’s an exciting and happy time and I am not going to make it all about me and food. My family doesn’t read my blog; they don’t know my struggle. They know I’m always on a diet. They know I don’t eat meat or dairy. They are not food pushers. I’ll be fine with them, happy to see them and spend time with them. It’s just me I’m trying to be fine with right now.

And in keeping with that holiday spirit, we have bought a Christmas tree even though we will be back in Michigan in a week or two. I love Christmas and I knew it would be make me sad not to have at least a tree. It’s so pretty lit up at night, and our community goes all out with the outdoor lights. Last night I wasn’t sure what was shining brighter, that big gorgeous moon or the lights here below. Here’s hoping you are enjoying the lead up to the holidays, too. And if you struggle with food issues like I do, don’t be too hard on yourself if you can’t be perfect. xo

 

 

Family Far and Wide

Mom, Mike, Cindy & Tim 1980

I just made up a hashtag. #MWNKIT=Mom With No Kids In Town. I can’t be the only one. In fact I know I’m not as Al and I celebrate Thanksgiving every year with friends who also have two sons that live in other states. Our kids grew up together and none of us ever thought they would leave for good. Raise their families elsewhere.

But they did and we have to live with it. It’s not easy, but it gets less painful every year. There’s still an ache, but FaceTime helps. I got to see my sons with their sons this holiday and it did my heart good. What I would prefer is to move to the west coast where they are, but Al is still working, and also, for him more than me, this is our home.

Family.IMG_1049

One way I recently learned to deal with the #MWNKIT feeling is to think of the painful stuff as just part of the ups and downs of life. Include the pain of missing someone (or a bunch of someones) into my idea of “life” and instead of judging it good or bad, just accept that this is how life is. Stop the inner struggle that would wish things were as they used to be. Because they aren’t but that doesn’t mean life can’t be good as it is.

I had to put this to the test when my dad took a fall recently and landed in the hospital in Florida. Many family members here in Detroit, me included, wanted to rush right down there and be with him. We wished he was here, with us. But he’s not. He’s there, we’re here. My dad is 79. He is precious to me. But, as Al reminded me, this is my home. Yes, I get that.

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Me, Dad & Owen

Now I just have to convince my dad to get a smart phone so I can FaceTime with him until February when Al and I make our annual visit.