I’m at that age where I meet a lot of widows and widowers; and they all say that the holidays can be sad, lonely times – with/without family. We all have generous friends. Some accept invitations … and some, like me, thank our inviting friends … and politely opt to stay at home: the festivities aren’t as much fun without our special someone, no matter how much we love our friends and appreciate their invites: we can’t guarantee that we won’t, at some point, become ‘debbie downers’. We won’t mean to, but it may happen. We might be happy one minute and crying the next as a memory fills our heart. We may want to bolt and run, instead of enjoying the celebratory chumminess. We love our friends. We don’t want to deflate their holiday cheer.
On familiar ground at home, some widows and widowers may cling to old family traditions – or start new ones. I kinda blend the two, but I am noticing this year that a lot of the ‘old’ is not creeping in as it has since 2018: I’m not on auto-pilot this year, and I’m not decking the house out as I did with a husband in house and grandkids underfoot – my holiday dΓ©cor this year is more solo-lobo-chick pad-style; no frills, just enough to make a splash for anyone dropping by … or glancing in the windows when they drive by.
I kept the handmade wreaths I made for this house, and the holiday doormats I bought in 2017, when we moved in here. I kept the Magen David Stars Bob designed and crafted for me (and moved with us, from our other house). I kept my own decades old tradition of making plastic canvas snowflakes for the windows (I made 15 new ones to hang, because there are more windows here, than at previous houses). And I kept the decade’s old ‘Twelve-Days of Christmas’ tablecloth (because I like the song, and the cloth is colorful π). But, everything else has been replaced. I don’t like climbing up a ladder, so the tinsel garlands Bob used to hang for me every Christmas for our 44 years together, no longer happens. The front porch greenery garland, was donated to a Senior Center Garage Sale two months ago – I didn’t want to fight with it this year. The animated musical dancing/sax playing reindeer, and snowman our little grandson got a kick out of, remained boxed up this year; and will probably go to a garage sale table in the coming year. All the other do-dads and frauhahs were bought over the past three holiday seasons without Bob in them: we have to do what we need to do to survive the loss and get through the holiday’s solo lobo.
This year, the holidays are a little more festive; I find myself truly smiling and laughing – more actively enjoying the holiday season. While the winter holiday season will never be the same … that doesn’t mean they can’t be good again.
This Hanukkah, the light of the candelabra shines bright with hope and renewal – each flickering candle wick reminds me that my strength to shine in the midst of the darkness crowding me, comes from the {oil} of Elohim’s power. Yeshua is my Husband now, and His love coupled with the indwelling of the Ruach Ha’Kodesh, will always burn bright – even if I sputter now and then π
When I
thought my oil reserve had been depleted following my loss, Elohei wrapped me
in his love … and surrounded me with people who came alongside me and helped me
win the victory over warring sorrow, edging my life π
That is an encouraging message.
The miracle of Hanukkah was that a very limited amount of Holy Oil – enough for one day – burned for eight consecutive days, while a fresh batch of oil was being produced.
That flame of selfless sacrifice for the whole, burned steadily to highlight love, restraint, harmony, ambition, devotion, bonding, and receptiveness … from which stem all motivations of the heart.
It was no mere flash of light – but a flame destined to shed unfaltering light, under stressful conditions: as a permanent fixture in our lives.
When I light my candelabra, I touch flame to wick with a thankfulness from my heart for the steadfastness of my God. For the strength of my Husband’s unfaltering love. For the warmth of my stalwart friendship circle, which always increases. And for the comfort of the world leader’s acknowledgement of Jerusalem as the center of Israel.
(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_recognition_of_Jerusalem_as_capital_of_Israel)
That is a lot to be thankful for π
So, I toasted the flames of hope that burn bright in the night, with a Pomegranate Seltzer – I saw this pack in the store, and thought I’d give it a try: pomegranates are Israel’s primary icon, coming in second only to the Magen David Star.
I was curious, but at
5% alcohol content, I’ll be nursing this thing through the night π
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