Covid 19 strikes again. I feel like I should wash my mouth out with soap after saying that phrase. I have to admit I am really over this season. I have been social distancing, quarantining, and sanitizing like a crazy person. My world is quite different than it was a year ago.
It's beginning to look a lot like....hold that thought for a minute. Yes, Christmas 2020 is less than two weeks away. Each year my favorite part of this season is the big family sleepover we have on Christmas Eve Eve. It's a big deal for my tribe. My Mom, my brother and his wife, most of our children (if they are in the country or able to fly home), their spouses/significant others, grandchildren, and grandpups all settle in for a not so quiet night of family, food, fun, movies, and games. Let's not forget the annual Christmas Eve Eve pajamas. Yes, every year I try to outdo the pajama's from the year before. We almost always match! I love this night. However, this year our Eve Eve may look very different.
As the number of Covid 19 positive cases keeps rising our plan for this year keeps changing. This year initially had visions of a grand extravaganza. We had hoped to include some of our extended family members in our big pregaming feast and possibly the pajama party. Our whole crazy family including my ex-husband and his wife and my husband's ex-wife and her husband. It seemed like everyone planned on being in Pennsylvania for a 2020 celebration. So we planned to extend the invitation for all to pack a sleeping bag and curl up in a cozy corner in our very full house and embrace the beautiful blessing of the Eve Eve pajamas. Well, that Grinchy Covid 19 has been plucking and pruning away at the guestlist for our 2020 Christmas Eve Eve celebration. Our crowd is slowly dwindling and the hard fact is that it is just going to be a lot less crowded this year. Two of our children and their other halves are unable to fly home due to the virus. Our extendeds decided to not travel at the risk of contracting Covid 19. Not even the members of our "bubble" are safe from being eliminated from the festivities. Yes, our bubble has been compromised a few times over the past few weeks. I thought about postponing the whole event and celebrating Christmas Eve Eve in July 2021. However, I don't think I could convince the grands to wait seven months to unwrap their gifts. And I am certain that the anticipation of the Eve Eve pajama reveal would be too great to contain my family's excitement (plus cozy winter pajamas in July.....). So, the show must go on. Not sure if it will be December 23rd or the eve eve of another day this holiday season. But the show will go on. And we can still have an Eve Eve celebration at the beach in July too! Hopefully, the virus will be a bad memory by that point. And our extended family can join us on the sand for a fun day of food, games, and maybe pajamas too.
I have to admit that this whole new surge of Covid nearly threw me into a full-blown temper tantrum. I have stopped asking the question, "What next?". I came to the reality that I don't need to ask that question because the "what next" happens without question. My husband and I stopped going to our bible study on Wednesday nights. We stopped going to the mall or the stores to browse for fun and fabulous deals. We don't have friends over for dinner or to just hang out. We haven't been to a restaurant in weeks (possibly months). We have had multiple encounters with the possibility that one or more of our children may have been in direct contact with a Covid positive individual. Our granddaughters had been going to school virtually and missing out on precious socializing time with old and new friends. And now they are hybrid (which is a whole different stress factor). I haven't seen much of my family up close and personal. We have canceled trips, vacations, gatherings, celebrations big and small, Sunday dinners, trips to the amusement park (last year's Christmas gift to the grands was an annual pass to Sesame Place), and the list could go on and on. But this week just about had me on the floor kicking and screaming.
I love my grands. Who wouldn't? They are smart, funny, and I learn something new about myself every time we are together. I enjoy having them here during the week. I especially love our pajama parties. Watching each of them grow and flourish has been amazing. I use to see the two oldest multiple times each week. Some days it would be for a few minutes and other days an hour or more. I saw them go from a baby blob to a ball of energy. Playing, praying, reading, singing songs, crafting, baking, making up fun games to play, dance parties in the purple room, bubble wrap stomping, making Barbie things, Ninja Turtle Tuesdays and so much more. Covid 19 changed a lot of things (daily visits with the grands was one of the negatives to parents working from home. At least from a grandma's perspective). We all grew together and we continue to grow and have fun doing it. So, when I received news of a "bubble" member's potential exposure to the virus I was initially in denial. Reality hit me around 4am. I woke up praying and laying my thoughts and concerns at God's feet. One by one I expressed my gratitude for the blessings, And suddenly...bam, Just like that I went from praising Him to hmm. My head and heart began to battle for my mind as I grew angry over the who's, what's and why's of this life-altering virus. I could handle not seeing the world outside my bubble. But now my bubble once again is being compromised. The thought of not physically seeing these amazing girls for an extended time just makes me sad and upset. These chicks are three of the most important humans in my world. My greatest blessings. I praise God for their love, hugs, and laughter. So, I think you can understand the disappointment in my heart. You're a mean one Covid 19. I suppose I will need to get creative with how we will grow together as this virus continues to wreak havoc on our lives.
As I sit here this morning. Post tantrum. I realize, once again, that I am a brat. God has given me so much and I sit here and complain that there is a slight altering of my universe. I am fortunate that I haven't lost a family member or loved one to the awful virus. And for that, I am truly blessed. Amid my tantrum, I lost sight of the meaning of this season. Love. Love doesn't come in the form of Eve Eve pajamas. It's not the packages wrapped and joyfully placed beneath the tree. It is understanding that things don't always go the way we planned because God may have something different planned. Love is patiently waiting to unwrap the goodness that this moment holds and trying hard not to throw a tantrum when it's not the right size (God knows you will grow into or out of your circumstances). Love isn't jealous or envious of what others have and how they get to celebrate with their bubble or bubble extensions. Love doesn't make a list and check it twice (or three or four times) to point a finger at who's naughty and who's nice. Love is that joyful moment when you can figure out alternative ways to celebrate without putting your loved ones in harm's way. Love always trusts, hopes and presses on regardless of the tantrums, disappointments, and unwanted changes. I pray that Eve Eve will be filled with love.
We will get over, under, around, and thru this crazy time. In the end, we will be more resilient and possibly more creative with how we celebrate. I know that I will be grateful for the hugs, kisses, and moments spent with my out of the bubble family and friends. Yes, the season is difficult. However, it's beginning to look a lot like love.
