25 on the 25th

Two things are often said by people with astute observations- that people tend to feel depressed around Christmastime, and that the worst situations tend to bring out the best in people. Last Christmas was a reflection of both viewpoints.

Things weren’t easy, living with my mother struggling with cancer. We would often, but not always, butt heads rather often, especially concerning things we didn’t agree with. It drove her nuts, as it did me. There are times when I did and said things so unspeakable I couldn’t believe I did so, and would do anything to take those times back. Eventually, we got into a fight over something as trivial as Christmas cards, and that was the last straw for her health.

When I realized I wouldn’t be seeing my mother over Christmas due to the significant stress, I was almost heartbroken. I felt as though my own world was falling apart- support from others notwithstanding- and that there was nothing I could do.

Until I realized, I could do something for her.

I couldn’t walk over to the hospital due to visiting hours, but I could reach out to others for support. So, the first thing I did when I got on my computer was log onto Twitter and start posting about my mother and her health, reaching out to everyone I could. And what do you know- Tara Strong herself- one of, if not the, world’s most famous voice actress- retweeted me. Short of actually curing my mom, it was the nicest thing she could do.

Of course, while I appreciated what Tara did for me, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that this didn’t come under better circumstances. After all, I didn’t mind to get the attention of someone who’s been an integral part of my childhood- I just didn’t want Mom to die for it to happen. Talk about a double-edged sword!

Eventually, when Dad left to go see Mom at the hospital, he told me “You wrote a lovely tribute for your grandfather for the 10th anniversary of his death. Perhaps you’d like to write something for your mother?”

“Of course,” I told Dad. However, it proved to be a little easier said than done. After all, what was I going to say about her? We had so many stories together, but so few that could be put into words.

There was, however, one story that stood out.

You see, I was slated to go to Israel during the Christmas season, but got kicked out for various reasons (poor mental health, not filling out the form on time, etc.) After getting kicked out on the 10th anniversary of my bat mitzvah, I was so heartbroken, I cried all day. At which point, Mom said “Isn’t there another trip?” At which point, Dad Googled other trips in Israel, and the rest, they say, is history.

After telling Mom my story on the phone, Dad said “Jenny, that was beautiful! Your mother was so touched!” She may have been too sick to say anything, but I could tell that deep down she knew, truly knew, that I loved her.

It’s often said that miracles happen to poor kids on Christmas, and in a sense, it did. Did Mom get better? Sadly, no- her cancer was deemed terminal literally the next day. Did a miracle happen that Christmas? Yes, she finally knew, truly knew, that regardless of the way I acted, deep down I loved, truly loved her. Many people don’t even get to tell their loved ones they truly care before they die, and I was lucky enough to have the opportunity.

Mom, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re having a wonderful Christmas, wherever you are, and just know we all love and miss you. Merry Christmas, and God bless us all.