There was a moment Christmas Eve when I looked out from my seat in the choir at the beautiful families in church and wanted to weep. I don’t have that. I will never have that. I will never be the mom surrounded by children and grandchildren with her handsome husband by her side.
But I was not alone. I was with our eight-person choir, who feel like family, and I had songs to sing and play, with solos to perform. I had to pull it together, even if I was just going through the motions. I admit that I visited the liquor cabinet after Mass and toasted my late husband with a bit of Cointreau, a French liqueur he left behind.
Christmas day dawned gray and rainy, but I felt better. I sat beside my Christmas tree and opened the presents I had not already opened the day before—who’s to tell me when to open my gifts?
The ones from family felt as if they didn’t really know me, but I had another Mass to play music for, so I didn’t dwell on it. I made myself a breakfast of fresh strawberries, a homemade muffin, and tea and dressed for Christmas Day Mass. Instead of Christmas Eve’s long skirt that was constantly in my way, I wore black slacks, a green shirt, and a sparkly vest—I was comfortable and festive.
I look back on my Christmas day in brightly colored mental snapshots and feel blessed.
At church, I played the piano. We sang carols and solos before Mass, and my song went as well as it possibly could. The church sparkled with red flowers and people in their holiday clothes. I love our small white church by the sea and all the people in it.
After Mass, I dashed home for lunch—a meat loaf sandwich, my favorite. I played a CD of Handel’s “Messiah” while making my salad for dinner with friends. I talked for a long time on the phone with my best friend in California, then drove 45 minutes up the coast to pick up Orpha, a friend, from her senior residence. Childless and widowed like me, she is still gorgeous in her 80s, and fun. We laughed and talked until we arrived at our friends’ house. There, it was a riot of gift wrappings, food, cookies, wine, and yes, kids, two teens and a little one. After their biological kids grew up, our hosts became foster parents. They specialize in teens with gender identity issues.
Most years, I spend at least one of the holidays there, and it always feels like home. It feels like family—no, it feels better than family because all of the people there have been chosen. My friends have collected me and Orpha, the two men who share a house across the street, their own children, their foster children, and their dogs and cats. It’s loud, crazy and wonderful, and I don’t feel a lack of anything.
Shortly after darkness fell, we oldies headed home. I traded my church/party clothes for soft PJs and settled in to watch the new Meg Ryan movie on Amazon Prime.
The doorbell rang. I paused the movie. My young neighbors and their friends sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” in perfect harmony, just for me. They all hugged me, and they gave me cookies, a giant candy cane, and a big beautiful photo taken in the location of my novel Up Beaver Creek. So sweet.
My brother’s family, whom I miss a lot, was having a more traditional Christmas with the kids and grandkids. My best friend was at her adult daughter’s home, but they weren’t getting along and she had a stomachache. Not all family holidays are joyful. If I were with family, I might have felt the lack of my own children and my late husband more deeply. It comes and goes. I have losses to grieve, but at the same time I have so much freedom and so much love in my life.
There is life beyond childlessness. It can be beautiful. You do need to reach out to other people and let them reach out to you. If you close the door and wallow in your loneliness, well, you will be lonely.
How did your holiday go? I’d love to hear the good, bad and ugly. Did you feel sad about not having children or relieved? Did you do anything a standard family might not have done? One couple I know went to Cabo. Why not?
A few days ago, when I was feeling creative, I wrote a new Christmas song. Click here if you’d like to hear it. Let me know if the link doesn’t work.
Next weekend is the New Year’s holiday. What will you do differently next year?
Thank you all for being here. I treasure your comments.
Photo by Nick Collins on Pexels.com
Childless by Marriage 
Happy New Year. We had Christmas with my elderly parents. Quiet, nice food but okay. Once that generation is gone, it will be just me and hubby. Perhaps we will try some Christmases at home, but I’m sure my thoughts will turn to “it shouldn’t have ended up just us”. Or we might try going away, but then I think there is no point going to places where Christmas doesn’t happen at all.
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Jenni, you might be hard pressed to find anywhere where Christmas doesn’t happen! It can be lovely though – we’ve had Christmas in Thailand, where they go all out with decorations, even though they are a Buddhist country. And we once drove around Oahu in a convertible on Christmas Day, which was fun. I have friends who often fly on Christmas Day, because the airlines make a fuss of their passengers (and they get somewhere exotic at the end of the flight). Or try a southern hemisphere Christmas for a different kind of Christmas Just some ideas.
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I loved this post! It sounds like you had a beautiful, full holiday that many would be envious of. The more I pay attention, I see that not everyone has a beautiful holiday season just because they have children.
A friend, whose parents died way too young, opted to take her young adult kids (and their boyfriends) to Florida for the holiday. This eliminated my friend’s sadness of not being able to go “home” for Christmas. Even with her fun accomplished daughters and their delightful boyfriends – it didn’t feel good to not have parents/grandparents to share the joy.
I borrowed a couple tablecloths and was still using them. One day I realized that my older friend might want them back for her holiday parties so I texted to let her know that I’d wash them up and get them back to her. “No worries, I won’t need them” she replied inside a seemingly cheerful text. Later, when talking to a mutual friend, I learned that her one child is the villain in a messy divorce and isn’t interested in the holiday (and by extension her grandchildren will also be withheld). Her other child isn’t currently speaking to her. She isn’t hosting a holiday party this year.
I know of another person, who recently had a successful surgery after some stressful diagnoses. In her large family you’d think she’d be comforted and celebrated during this specific holiday, made more meaningful due to her good health. But no, she was overlooked and disregarded. Sadly, her life choices, and how she raised her family, resulted in a not unkind – but also not terribly tender Christmas. Heartbreaking when there are over 30 people in the family she built.
You have to make the effort. You have to find people. You have to love people. Not just children. Children “are the future” but they are not the only people that matter in the present.
As for me. I continue to be a bit melancholy. But all month I appreciated my customers, found joy with various friends, felt gratitude to have healthy parents. I found warmth at a table of my siblings and all the people they brought in to our family. I endured my in-laws (and felt relief that a specific in-law reached out with a surprising apology). My husband and I truly enjoyed our own habits, traditions and food. On New Year’s Day evening (the “end” to our holiday relaxation), I was moved to private tears. We were discussing what pizza to order and what movie to watch. Such a simple, silly thing. But sitting next to our beautiful tree, on my cozy couch, in my perfectly cleaned home, waiting for my handsome husband to return with the pizza – I felt a moment of absolute privilege for the life I built. But also grief, for what I won’t have in the future when he’s gone.
Thank you, Sue, for your post of your beautiful holiday and for showing us how life can evolve after loss. For showing us how life can be full if you only open your heart. I can see now that my future can be lively and full of joy – regardless!
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I really enjoyed reading this post. And I really enjoyed reading the comments too. I look forward to more posts from you in 2024. ❤ Happy New Year!
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Sue, I loved the joy in this post, even while marking what you have lost. Your friends sound wonderful. How special to have a “family” like that. Happy New Year!
As for me, after spending last year just on our own, this year my house was full with my sister, BIL and niece, another adult niece, and her son, my great-nephew. It was hectic, but I had planned in advance. And it was lovely to have them all here for the first time. Who knows what I’ll be doing or where I’ll be next year? I’m hoping I’ll be somewhere exotic, but I’m not counting my chickens.
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