A Very UnMerry Christmas (To Us)

I have been actively trying for two whole years now to convince Barrett that Christmas is a wonderful, joyous time of year. This year the cards have been stacked against said convincing. We had everything planned out perfectly. A split holiday for the boys so that they had time with both parents, over a week off for Barrett, and a clean, well-decorated home for our Christmas visitors (AKA Barrett's grandparents)-who have yet to see our new home. Cue whiteout conditions for their drive up here, leaving grandparents stranded in Redding (at least with family) for 2 days. Then, on the day that the roads are clear enough for them to continue their drive up here, we can't get a hold of anyone, and get a phone call saying that his grandmother is on her way to the hospital. 

She had had pneumonia before leaving, but after two rounds of antibiotics (though still not clear x-rays) her doctor gave her the go ahead to travel. Cue grandmother collapsing, followed by the news that she would now be staying (in Redding) in the ICU for the next 4-5 days due to a blood clot in her lungs. I am not by nature an optimistic person anyhow, but I was trying SO hard yesterday to be upbeat. Christmas can be held on any day of the year. We packed up our bags (in record time I tell you), only to be told not to come and ruin our Christmas, but to stay put...it was insisted. While on one hand there was immense relief on my part (who doesn't want to spend Christmas morning with their children?), there was also that huge sense of helplessness. Maybe we should go. Maybe we should have gone to California instead of them travelling up here. Maybe we should show our love and concern. Even with a new plan at hand, how does one cheer up their Love and insist that Christmas will still be okay?

Barrett and I spent the day unpacking the car, and breaking our diet in every way possible (See's candy and pizza, anyone?), then relaxing with Friends reruns. This morning we came up with a new plan that isn't wonderful, but is doable. Christmas here with the kids and my family, then a trek to Redding the next day to visit his grandparents and take Christmas to them. Still trying to make the best of it, we booked a hotel with an indoor, heated pool-figuring we can at least do something kind of cool with the boys. And did I mention the room we thought we were booking had 2 queen beds, but alas has 2 doubles? :) It'll be a cozy night. We repack some stuff (luckily hadn't completely unpacked), and sadly take apart the guest room, putting it back to normal. His grandparents will be returning home (with another family member driving them instead of continuing their trip). Still (Yes, STILL) trying to be somewhat cheerful, we decide we will go on a Christmas Eve hike and we shower and pack a picnic lunch. 

In loving memory of Rya Mae

Are you ready for it? It's almost comical at this point. Barrett goes to take the trash out, and sees our yellow lab, Rya, under the deck, so he calls her name. Then he comes in and tells me, "Yeah. It's officially the worst Christmas." Rya, who had been throwing up the last day or so (though we honestly hadn't noticed much with everything else going on) was dead. Wow. At this point we throw on coats, he puts her in the back of our Ranger, and we set out to dig a Christmas Eve grave for our pet. The air is freezing cold, the clay ground heavy with water, and the dog already stiff as a board. Great combination. Between dark humor, sniffling, and a few curse words at the uncooperative earth, Rya was buried. 

I have had only a few crappy Christmases ever. There was one as a child when my Papa died two days before the holiday and we made an impromptu trip to Oregon, and the year that Greg and I separated and I was childless on Christmas. This one so far is definitely up there. But, I am reminded that things could be worse. Much worse. I think of the families in Connecticut and thank God that our trials are so much less. Grandma is getting better, we still get to see family, and though we loved her, our dog was almost 11, and not in the greatest shape. I am reminded that life happens while we are busy making plans. In the midst of everything that goes awry, just smile and know that God has you covered. Merry Christmas.