Solstice
The shortest days and the longest, darkest nights. It’s felt especially dark this year. I’m not sure if I’m missing Hannah more now because the book dredged up vivid memories of her and brought her back to life. But I do know that I’ve always missed Hannah the most at Christmastime.
It was her favorite holiday season. Of course the boys love Christmas too, but Hannah, especially, dove into it with everything she had. I’ll always remember her…making gifts for her friends and family, painting pottery at Dancing Brush, putting up the manger scene in our house, baking Christmas cookies, decorating the tree, making a wreath with me at Bainbridge Gardens, caroling at the tree lighting in Winslow, getting dressed up and attending performances of the Nutcracker in Poulsbo where her big sister, Alli, danced… counting down to Christmas on the advent calendar.
After Hannah died, it was excruciating to return to some of these activities. The year that she passed, we had to leave town, mercifully escaping to Hawaii for the Christmas holiday. The following year, I dared to venture into some of the old advent activities. I don’t remember a lot about that second Christmas, other than finally having the nerve to put up a tree. I do recall painting ceramics at Dancing Brush that year. While I was there working by myself, a group of elementary school kids came in and started singing Christmas carols. Initially, I cringed and felt trapped in the studio, but since I was the only one painting that weekday morning, I couldn’t very well leave the shop. I took a deep breath and tried to enjoy the experience, gradually coming to feel like it was Hannah gifting me the music for my second Christmas without her. I returned to making wreaths at Bainbridge Gardens the following year, a tradition I’ve kept up for over twenty years. Now I prefer to work alone in the chilly covered greenhouse, mostly because Hannah will never share that with me again. And some activities may never be resurrected. I have yet to pull the manger from the bin in our basement and set it up. Some memories are just too painful.
I’ve always loved creating advent activities that our kids would remember when they got older. Whether it was constructing a gingerbread house, making ornaments, or playing a new game, I’ve gotten a lot of pleasure out of the buildup and anticipation to Christmas, as much as the day itself.
It’s probably why I’m carrying on that tradition with our grandchildren. For the past several years, since Adam and Alexis’s children have lived on the island, I’ve created twenty-four days of activities and gifts for them. With waiting for their kids to be vaccinated and for the pandemic to pass, I haven’t been able to be with them in person as much as I would have liked. But I hope that they feel a connection to me and to each other through the joy of the activities.
Hannah would have loved playing with her niece and nephews. I imagine when they’re putting together a puzzle, baking cookies, or playing Harry Potter’s “Wizard’s Chess”, Hannah is right there with them smiling and laughing. She would have made a great Aunt Hannah if she were still in the physical world. I wish she were still with me to help create these activities and these memories with our grandkids. And I’d like to think it will be one of their more meaningful, joyful memories of Christmas.
I cherish the time I have now with my family and friends whom I love most in the world, knowing too well it won’t last forever.
On another note, I’m so grateful to those of you who have shared with me how A Soul Lives On has touched your heart. I hope the book brings comfort and light to anyone who may be struggling with missing someone this holiday.
With love…