the moment that makes it all worthwhile...

The celebration of the holidays has officially begun. I awoke this morning with ambivalent feelings about this journey. Part of me felt scared, terrified that the afternoon would greet me with icy tension, the witnessing of cruelty, and the prospect of figuring out how to survive the next two days. The other part of me felt excited, hopeful, and grateful for this time with family. After receiving a wonderfully unexpected phone call, I could not stop myself from smiling, the hope overwhelming the fears. And so my day began with a determination to remain positive, to let go of the pent-up anger and disappointments, withhold the tears and just enjoy the moments for what they may bring.

The drive was pleasant, Christmas carols and old country favorites accompanying me down back country roads. Pulling up to the weathered farmhouse, I was greeted by the sight of my daddy swinging on the porch, the same swing I sat in on so many other Thanksgivings eagerly awaiting the arrival of my aunt. It was a familiar sight, a comforting sight. My mama and aunt were talking on the porch, my sister pacing a bit and looking bored. Nevertheless, it was a nice welcome for my arrival.

As the afternoon continued, the tensions did rise. A few arguments ensued, though they were relatively mild compared to the screaming matches these walls have heard before. But still, the feeling of gratitude was absent, the excitement of the holidays bypassing the family around me, my family. Perhaps it was the vacant look in my grandmama’s eyes as she sat, lost in the television and her own internal world of pain. Perhaps it was the obnoxious bellowing that rang from my grandfather’s recliner, where he insisted on placing blame on anyone other than himself. Or perhaps it was just my own awareness that the people in my midst have been fighting this battle far too long…the will to push through the anger is no longer there. All I could feel was a lingering sense of apathy and an underlying sadness.

But the day was not all bad. Even in the resignation, we found a few moments tonight to laugh and joke and smile. As we tucked my grandmama into bed and snuggled her tight into the covers, a lifetime of misery faded from her face and her eyes lit up with the love encircling her. With my own mama and sister standing by her bedside and my aunt and I snuggled in next to her, my grandmama laughed for the first time I remember in many, many years. She smiled as I held her hands in mine, gently stroking her delicate skin. The tears glistened in her eyes when I asked her what she wanted for Christmas and she responded by saying “just my girls”. Four grown women, but we are all still her “precious girls”. It was hard in that moment to hold back my own tears, to keep the smile on my face. But in that moment, it no longer mattered how difficult the holidays may be. The anxieties and fears faded, and in that moment, my grandmother’s happiness made every second of this holiday season more than worth any pain that may come.

Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and return to that old house in the countryside. I will enjoy a special holiday with my family and I will thank God for my grandmama’s laugh, for her smile, and for her tears of love.