And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
Very late tonight – it’s only a couple hours until tomorrow. But I was actually out, having some fun.
Last year, during the Christmas season, Michael, Olivia, Andy, Grandgirl Maya Mae, and I went on a Christmas lights boat cruise around Lake Geneva, here in Wisconsin. It was an incredibly foggy night; I don’t know how many times I got lost between home and the parking lot where we were to meet a shuttle bus to take us to the marina. But we finally made it, and it was so much fun. Santa apparently has a secret hideaway by the lake, and partway through our ride, he came out and read from his list of “nice” children. Maya’s name was on the list! Then, as we tried to make our way back to the pier, the captain announced we were having trouble getting docked because…they couldn’t find it in the fog. I would have been perfectly happy to just stay on the boat, but they did eventually find it and we disembarked. We decided that we would do it again next year.
Which is now, of course. And so much has happened between now and then. I asked Andy and Olivia if they still would like to do it again, and they both agreed.
It was different, of course. There was no fog this year, and because we went on a weeknight, we were able to park in the lot right by the marina, rather than having to take the shuttle bus. Santa still showed up, even though Christmas was a week ago. I had a drink called Santa’s Little Helper, which included heavy cream, kahlua, and caramel vodka. I now know what keeps Santa going all night long!
The lights were gorgeous. Christmas songs were sung. Children were delighted to hear that their names were already on the “nice” list for next year. It was a fun time.
The Moment for me – the realization that I can still enjoy myself, still have fun, still go out and do things that we did together and enjoyed before. This whole season of much-loved traditions has brought me to that conclusion. I recognize that I’ve been wanting to cocoon myself – staying at home, wrapped in blankets in bed, or in blankets on my recliner. It’s familiar. It’s comfortable.
Even though I am surrounded with newness here too. It’s interesting to me that it’s hard for me right now to go out and away from home, when it’s at home that I miss Michael the most, where I see so many places that he should be that he isn’t.
Grief doesn’t make any sense.
But on the boat tonight, I found myself laughing. I sang along with the others. I admired the lights and their reflections on the lake.
Last year, Andy, Olivia, and Grandgirl Maya Mae sat in one row. Michael and I sat behind them and we held hands throughout the ride.
My hand was empty this year.
Holding the drink helped. So did the drink!
Really, the only moment I choked up was during the song “Feliz Navidad” by Jose Feliciano. I first sang this song in high school, my junior year, and in my first semester of Spanish. I was so thrilled that I could sing something in another language, AND understand what I was saying. Now, I sang it with the others, but could hear Michael saying, “For God’s sake, Merry Christmas, already. We get it!” He found the song very annoying, which always made me sing it louder. But on this night, when I got to the English “I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart!”, well, I did. I wanted to wish Michael a Merry Christmas. And a Happy Birthday. I wished it from the bottom of my heart. And tomorrow night, I will miss sharing a kiss and a hug at midnight.
So I teared up and had to stop singing for a bit.
But I came home feeling warm – and it wasn’t just Santa’s Little Helper. It was a good night. And it’s so, so wonderful that I am still capable of feeling those. In some ways, I feel like I’m back in that first year Spanish class. I am learning a new language. And I am beginning to understand it.
I may have to buy some heavy cream, kahlua, and caramel vodka.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.
