This is the seventh Christmas since Mr. Virgo died. I look back over the years and remember how each one felt. 

2013: The loss was so profound the first Christmas. I was numb, empty, devoid of anything but pain.

2014: The second was equally painful but in a different way. I was awake…and he was STILL gone. And by then, I was living in West Virginia on the family farm and trying to help my aunt. I now know what she was going through was early stages of dementia, but at the time it was mean spirited and got ugly on Christmas Day when I was invited to leave. That was hard.

2015: The third was better. I flew to Colorado to be with my family and it was a welcome visit. I was beginning to catch my breath and develop a rhythm to my life and experience a great deal of personal growth. I don’t believe I cried that Christmas.

2016: The fourth was much, much better. I still had moments of sadness and reflection, but I had recently begun dating Mr. FixIt and there was a glimmer of hope rising. I found such comfort in our friendship and the possibilities of it developing into something deeper flitted around in the back of my mind. I struggled a little with “Where do I put the memories of Mr. Virgo if I start another relationship?”

2017: The fifth was great fun! My relationship with Mr. FixIt had solidified and we were sure we had found a life long love. There was a little mix of sadness because of losses in the family, which underscored the fragility of life. And we officially moved in together which started a year of uncanny sermons from our Pastor on NOT living together before you’re married.

2018: This brought us to the sixth Christmas…married! It was mind-blowing how far I had come, and we were over the moon!

2019: And now…here we are at the seventh Christmas. The number seven appears 735 times in the Bible. Seven is the foundation of God’s word. It’s the number of completeness and perfection. It isn’t lost on me that this is the time God has chosen for me to make changes in my writing schedule and turn my focus so I can accomplish other things as well as maintaining my presence here.

A lot has happened this year. I traveled four months out of this year. I had ample time for reflection. I’ve been able to package up a lot of things in my mind and store them neat and tidy because I don’t have to handle them every day anymore. This year I’ve felt more like myself, if that makes any sense to you. I wear this life now like my favorite comfortable sweater. It fits me. I no longer feel a disconnect between my heart and my mind and my feet. I’m standing where I was meant to stand…going where I’m meant to go.

This is a comfortable place to be. It’s a relief. And, it’s still ever so slightly disconcerting because I have the very clear awareness that there is precious little space between “here” and “not here”. This Christmas is good. Real. Grounded. I’m in a relationship where I’m free to be exactly who I am, speak my mind, and not be afraid all the time. My “fear of abandonment issues” have largely disappeared. I am a body at rest.

As I look at the picture above, I see two different women sharing the same space. This is the way grief is. Pain and heartbreak can exist in the same space as joy and happiness. This is the kind of thing I wanted to see and hear when I was that woman on the left. I so needed to hold onto hope and there were precious few sources for that in my life at the time. When I found myself lacking my own grief mentor, God whispered…

“That…go do that for others, dear one.” In so doing, I myself was the recipient of such healing and grace.

It’s been quite the journey, to be sure. 

❤️

“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.”

3 John 1:2 NIV