Worst Christmas Ever
At the beginning of November, I’d been really run down and took some time to look over my commitments and plans for immediate future, as I frequently do. It was quickly apparent that I had taken on way too many responsibilities. Further, in assessing the status of my property management business, I realized that my situation was more complicated. Two of my residents not fulfilling their commitments, which means that I would be picking up significant drains.
The first thing I did was trim the most recent volunteer tasks I’d agreed to. They were still just ideas and no real motion had been started. Then, I set to plan how I would manage debt and bills in order to take on the nonpaying tenants.
Both of these properties are very complicated by the fact that the renters were supposed to buy. We don’t have straight rental agreements. So, untwisting our Agreements required some creative thinking. The stress precipitated a cascade of symptoms related to the chronic fatigue syndrome that I have carried as long as I can remember.
Basically, I have intractable disseminated joint pain. I have constant migraine headaches from the arthritis in my spine. Every movement hurts. I have to work and even work more because other people are not paying their bills and I didn’t plan enough in my slush fund.
Despairing, I tried to put up a good front, not letting anyone see me cry, but on the verge of tears at all times. I couldn’t think of Christmas.
Ignoring Christmas wasn’t too hard until the week before Christmas Eve. My mom said that she and my sister thought they were coming up to my house for our traditional Christmas Eve Family gathering. I said, “ok”. I told everyone not to exchange gifts this year. I insisted that we enjoy visiting. Between bouts of crying in pain and working, I cleaned the house and put up a few decorations. I did not buy one gift.
The real work was keeping a good attitude and pretending to be fine when I was in so much pain. I kept reigning in bad thoughts and replacing them with loving thoughts. I purposefully kept the Nativity story in my mind. I considered the adversities the young couple went through as they sought to fulfill the plan of God.
Christmas was really pleasant. I love my family. They pitched right in. One daughter cleaned while I was sleeping the night before and another brought lots of food that day. On Christmas morning, we met at my mother-in laws. One son brought stockings filled with candy and the others all brought gifts for everyone. I was glad they didn’t obey me. We just ate and talked and talked and joked around.
I thought it would be the worst Christmas ever, but then I refused to let it be. I did my best to hide the pain and I became 4F for now. 4F= faking for family and friends, of course.
“Everyone has stuff” I always say. No one really has it all together all the time. I hope to look back and be able to say it was a great Christmas, not because I expect there to be worse ones, but because I expect to be able to remember being joyful despite the circumstances.
In what ways do you fake it ’til you make it?