We put up the tree today... (we did go to a Christmas Tree Farm to cut it, which was fun... but I forgot the camera at home so they'll be no pictures). Anyway, as we put it up I found myself slipping into a funk. Generally I'm a pretty upbeat person, but as we hung the lights and ornaments I felt a heaviness settle over me, almost completely burying the Christmas spirit I've been happily wearing around for days.
I was a little surprised by this, but as I thought about it I realized that December has been a pretty tough month for me for the past several years and it would probably be surprising if I didn't have a negative reaction to it.
Three years ago, on December 9th my mother passed away after her health quickly seemed to slip away over the course of about six months. As she became weaker and more ill, it seemed as though our roles reversed, and I spent much of that Fall trying to take care of her... rushed trips to the ER (and hours spent waiting for them to decide whether or not to admit her), trips to the store to get her medications and groceries, countless hours spent with her at the hospital when she was to sick to be home. I wasn't able to do as much for her as I wish I could have (M was already struggling terribly with schizophrenia at that time, and I was being pulled in two very different directions) but I'm so glad I was able to do as much as I did. It was an incredibly difficult time and although I know she was miserable then, and is happier now, I still miss her... Each December since then has been a reminder of that time and losing her.
Two years ago in December we were making plans to sell our home of 18 years and take a giant leap of faith, to a new life away from the city. That last Christmas in the old house was bittersweet... As I prepared for the holiday I remember thinking... this is the last time I'll hang the stockings here... the last Christmas tree ... the last holiday dinner in this house. Yes, I suppose I was being melancholy... but I'm Irish, and we can be very good at melancholy. The minute the tree came down that year (on the 26th!) I began getting the house ready to sell, and it went on the market the first week of January.
Last December was as difficult as the December my mom died, although in a different way. (I'll ask apologies in advance from any family members who missed this story. While it was happening it was too painful to talk about, once it was over it was something I only wanted to put behind me.) Last December M was very unstable. He was so unstable that his pdoc didn't think I could continue to manage him (and R) safely at home. So she called our county social service agency and filed a report detailing her concerns. Before she called them she let me know what she was going to do, and I begged her not to, but she called anyway. (She said she didn't want them to remove M, but she hoped her call might open up some doors to services through DCSS) Not knowing exactly what she had told them, or when they might arrive on my doorstep, I called a friend who is a children's attorney (she works as a GAL for a legal center that serves those who often have no legal voice... children, the homeless, people with disabilities) and asked what I should do. She said I needed to prepare (asap!) for them to come and investigate us. She said that if they felt that M was too unstable to be safe here (or for the rest of us to be safe here), they would remove him from our home. She told me I needed to take every precaution right away, before social services came, to be able to prove to them that I could manage him at home. So I installed alarms on each outside door and his bedroom door. I went through his room inch by inch to make sure there was nothing in there that could hurt him. I carefully went through the rest of the house as well, making sure it was as safe as I could make it. I did everything my friend suggested that was possible for me to do... and then I waited. My memory of last December is waiting for a caseworker to show up at my door, of being afraid to answer to phone in case it was them calling. They never investigated... but it took months before I stopped holding my breath each time an unfamiliar car came down the driveway.
Maybe I overreacted... but M is so incredibly vulnerable. He's both developmentally delayed and seriously mentally ill, he's not a child who could manage a quick removal from our home (and I'm not a mom who could manage his quick removal from our home!). It didn't help that I know a family in a similar situation who had a 13 year old son removed from their home by social services. It took that family almost a year to get him back.
I don't want to start a discussion/argument about social service agencies... I've spent lots more time working with/for them, then being afraid of them. But this is the reality of what was happening here one year ago. It was a nightmare. The nightmare was probably made worse because I trusted the pdoc... I never dreamed she would take that step. (Yes, it's the same pdoc we have now... I've forgiven her, but will probably never trust her completely again)
Anyway... back to putting up the tree today, and feeling the dark clouds rolling over me. I think it's going to take at least one good December for me to shake the feeling of uneasiness (dread?) that this month brings. So, I'm going to work on just enjoying the season... I'm not stressing about shopping because, after all, Christmas shopping is so much easier when you aren't watching over your shoulder for caseworkers, or packing 18 years worth of stuff at the same time!
I'm going to enjoy my kids (big and little) and focus on them and the people in our lives that are so special to us... rather then spend time worrying about problems that come into the family from outside. The unit study M and R (and I) will be starting this week is on the Nativity. We'll read, and draw, and wonder our way through the story of Jesus' birth. I can't think of a nicer way to spend our unit study time for the next few weeks...
Understanding the "why" of my December funk, should make it easier to move past it... and lose (find?) myself in the wonder and beauty of this season.
Here's a good start... Remember this ornament Steve? It's gone on our tree every year since ??? I wonder what the lifespan of Shrinky Dinks is?! And the second picture is R, reaching for that empty spot up near the top of the tree!
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