Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.
Martin Luther
My sister has already put up her Christmas tree, which reminds me of my Mom. She would get the tree up early so she could take it down the day after Christmas without remorse. I, on the other hand, will be lucky if I have my tree up by mid-December because I don’t take it down until my daughter’s birthday in mid-January. While we keep our own traditions, we do share memories. So when my sister posted a video of this year’s Christmas tree with the snowman ornaments our Mom created, it stirred a memory.
After Mom determined that we kids were all “grown-up” enough, she ditched the nostalgic child-crafted-ornament Christmas decor for themed trees. Each beautiful, we had a blue and silver themed tree, snowflake themed, all red themed, the list went on and on. However, one Christmas I came home from college to find she had planned a red Christmas apple-themed tree. These tiny apples were carefully spaced around the tree and she had taken a metallic marker and written names on each one. Of course, every member of the family had an apple, so there were six right there. Then the pets had apples of their own, too. So that’s two more. Still, it was pretty obvious to me that there were way more apples on the tree. Hmmm. Who else did she add?
Turns out that she added my brothers’ high school girlfriends’ names to the tree. So, that’s what we’re doing now? I had no beau at the time and found this to be quite unjust and obviously spoke out about it. Mom laughed at me and told me I could add my boyfriend’s name to the tree…all the while knowing I had no boyfriend. In recalling all this, I guess you could say I was in a “Grinchy” state of mind and immediately set out to rectify the situation. In metallic pen, I wrote KEANU and placed my apple at the front of the tree.
So I chuckle a little every time the movies Speed, The Matrix, and John Wick come across my television screen. I think my Mom would laugh (at me), too. So many great Christmas memories and I wouldn’t trade a single one.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.
If you love someone put their name in a circle not a heart, because a heart can be broken, a circle goes on forever. — Brian Littrell
As the holidays approach I think of my Mom in her kitchen, busy making delicious dishes while simultaneously watching Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel. I would tease her about this.
Mom, these shows all have the same plot.
Mom, these movies are farcical.
Mom, this show was just on. Why are you watching it again?
She took it all in stride. Mom loved the Hallmark Channel. In typical monkey-see, monkey-do fashion, I also became a fan of the Hallmark Channel. Who can resist the predictable storylines, the far-fetched romance, and my favorite part — the happy endings!
This year there is a new Christmas movie that I happened to stumble across. It’s the second part, a follow-up if you will, to a movie that aired in 2014. I remember watching the first movie with my Mom. I can’t even tell you how silly this movie is! Still, I can so clearly remember her, my sister and I, all busy in the kitchen and watching the original movie together. So when the new movie aired a few weeks ago, I just had to watch it.
Part of the new storyline includes grieving over the mother of the main character, who has passed away. The two sisters were doing their best to move on, yet there they were together on Christmas…reminiscing over an Advent calendar created by their mother. I don’t want to give away the plot, but there was a line that stood out to me. Love, full circle. No beginning. No end. Just love. The sisters talked about their mother making wreaths and how they symbolize love, full circle. This was a trademark characteristic of their mother. Mine, too.
I’m not going to lie. Part of the reason I continue watching Hallmark movies is the same reason I started in the first place, it’s because of my Mom. I’m grateful that they remind me so much of her and honestly, it makes me feel close to her still.
She would have liked this new movie, she would have watched it a million plus times, and I would have teased her about it.
Love, full circle.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.
It’s December 16th and my tree still sits bare. “At least it’s up,” I tell myself. It’s pre-lit, so I turn it on every night, but for some reason I haven’t had time (or made time) to put the ornaments on it.
Deciphering my hesitancy hasn’t been fun. Is it laziness, over-scheduling, apathy, grief, or flat-out “grinchiness” — maybe it’s a combination of all of the above? My first clue that this Christmas was going to be a problem came in October when Hobby Lobby put out all the Christmas decor. Turning down that aisle and seeing the wall of ornaments reminded me of shopping trips that will never be, celebrations that can’t happen and all that has been lost. I’ve been trying to move past that sinking feeling ever since. I seem to be stalled.
One of the things I like most about decking the halls are all the memories that accompany the unboxing. This year, unboxing memories hasn’t been easy for me…not just for Christmas, but for any holiday. I’m trying to tell myself that I can do hard things…and I know that I can and will…tomorrow.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.
The Hallmark Channel has been showing Christmas movies since late October. These shows have always reminded me of my Mom, her kitchen, and the holidays. We have shared a lot of laughter over these silly (and oftentimes far fetched) movies! I remember making fun of her obsession with the Hallmark Channel and then, before I knew it, I was addicted, too. Crazy but true.
Still there are other movies, family favorites, that not only remind me of her, but take me back in time. Tonight, Funny Farm with Chevy Chase was on AMC. I don’t think I ever classified it as a Christmas movie, but I get it now. There’s something about the holidays! It’s been a while since I laughed out loud at a movie — who can resist the “cue the deer” line? Truly funny. 18 months after her passing and my first thought was to text her that it was on TV. I know she would have tuned in and we would undoubtedly laugh at the same parts. Maybe the line should be “cue the tears” instead? Bittersweet memories.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere 