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I found this photo online and it really spoke to what I want to unleash here.
I wonder if the whole sadness of growing older has a lot to do with grieving the loss of our former selves.
Today... I am missing ... me. Or at least the me I used to be.
I don't want to go back and be that person again... but I miss a lot of what she had. I miss the confidence she possessed. I miss the energy and enthusiasm that seemed to be so readily available at any given moment. I miss the people that were constantly around her. I miss her commitment and devotion to much more than just her immediate family. I miss her faith.
That's the big one. I miss her faith. Like I said... I don't want to go back. What she had is not mine to possess anymore, but I grieve it with great sadness.
I wish I could convey how heartbreaking it is for me that I can't embrace her faith anymore. It's just not real.
Coming into the Christmas season, I am reminded about Santa Claus. There is so much enthusiasm in a child when they can totally embrace the existence of Santa. Most parents know it is a temporary belief. Most children grow out of it and move on to other things. They leave Santa behind in their childhood... and seem to survive.
How strange would it be to maintain a belief in Santa well into adult hood? Would the joy stay or would it be lost in the cloud of the illusion that one must maintain to keep the myth alive. Not too many adults around them would support their fantasy for them. They would soon be advised to grow up and move on.
And then there is Jesus. To me... it is the same dilemma. It just took a lot longer for me to move on. It is such a lonely road. I want to be sad this Christmas because it will be the first Christmas I will be remembering a dead Jesus and not a living one.
It is the difference between my nephews' birthdays. When Sean's birthday comes around, he gets a text, or a birthday card or some kind of greeting from me. He is still alive. He gets honoured on the celebration day of his birth. When Ben's birthday comes around, he is still remembered, but with sadness, because he is dead.
Christmas was different when I believed that Jesus was alive. Now... understanding the likelihood that he died 2000 years ago and the story of him coming back to life was a myth... well this makes Christmas different for me. This makes Christmas sad in a totally new way.
Today is the first Sunday of Advent. And I will make it and the coming Christmas meaningful in a new way. There is only one direction and it is forward. So bring on the grey hair and wrinkles... Old Age... here I come.
"Grief is in two parts. The first is the loss. The second is the remaking of life." Anne Roiphe