Jill's Journal: 'Home' for the holidays ...

Published by admin on Tue, 12/20/2022 - 2:21pm

By:

Jill Meier, Journal editor

I love all things Christmas. The reason for the season. The decorating. Church programs. Yummy holiday treats. The festive music. Cute kids on Santa’s lap. The innocence of ‘I believe.’ Blinged out Christmas cookies. Gatherings with family and friends. And going home for the holidays.

It’s the last one on my list that’s just a bit different this year than any other year that’s come before. For the first time in my near six decades of life, I don’t have a home to go to. Although my Mom passed shortly before Thanksgiving a year ago, I still had her home to go to last Christmas. And while she was no longer there and her home wasn’t decorated in usual fashion, there was just something about walking through the door of home.

For weeks leading up to Christmas, my friends have been asking, ‘Where are you going for Christmas?” I know it’s a common question, and one that I’ve asked others hundreds of times before, but this year, it has brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat.

I know how I’m feeling is all part of the grief process, and I know in the years to come, memories will dry up my tear-lined eyes and the lump in my throat.

I’ll be spending Christmas Eve – weather, of course, allowing – with my longtime friend of 50-plus years, Trisha, and her mom, Enie, in St. James. Enie’s home sits right across the street from mom’s former home. Sometimes, it’s a bittersweet view. I’m happy to see the familiar two-story home on the corner lot, but somewhat sad knowing a new family is making memories there now.

On Christmas Day, I’ll set out for New Ulm, Minn., where my brother and his wife, and their three boys and families all live. As always, it will be a day of chaos with nephew Trav’s home filled with three generations of Meiers, a tableful of holiday goodies, a bounty of presents under the tree and a bigger-than-we-probably-need prime rib roast.

This is now our family’s ‘new normal.’ And while a home surely doesn’t make a holiday, I truly miss going home for the holidays.

Merry Christmas.