Finding JOY during a COVID Christmas
This past holiday season was so much harder than I thought it was going to be. After months of being separated from friends and family, I was under the delusion that Christmas would be just another day. Emotionally, the entire month of December was a wreck. I can only now start to talk about it.
The realization that Christmas was going to be without my family, happened on a warm Thursday afternoon in December. I was working on a course shell at my dinning room table, when I saw my Aunt Connie walk past my front window. I leapt from my chair and ran to the front door, like an over excited dog that just spotted the mailman. Bursting onto my front walk in my yoga pants and no shoes, I was able to catch my Aunt just before she sat back into her car, where my Uncle Larry was waiting. We talked for a few minutes, me on my patio and them in the driveway. I hung on every word that they said, I could have stood there all day and talked to them. (Two months later and recanting this event still brings me to tears. I’m crying so hard right now it’s hard to type). They were out dropping off Christmas presents and had other houses that they needed to visit, so the conversation was short. As they pulled away from the house and drove down my street into the distance, my emotions overwhelmed me. I stood there like a child lost at the mall, not sure which way to go and all alone. It took a few seconds before I could break free from looking down my street, I think I was hoping that they would come back? I felt abandoned. Fifty years old, and I felt just like a child watching their parents leave the behind.
Back in the house, Jeremy was on a work conference call, so I had to try and hold myself together. I couldn’t. Going to the back of the house, I started to cry and couldn’t stop. In fact, I didn’t stop until hours later. The next couple of days were some of the lowest that I have experienced since the pandemic started, hopeless and depressed. I couldn’t see how this holiday season would have any possibility of being merry and bright. I needed to do something to get my mind off of the fact that I wouldn’t be spending time with my family.
After a few days of thinking about how we would not be together, I started thinking about when we will be together. How could I create something for my family, which may be feeling the same way, that would help them think about the future and not dwell on the current situation? How could I give them JOY? I started to paint, not sure where is was going. I ended up with an abstract that I superimposed the word JOY, as the final layer.
Jeremy is actually the one that had the idea to cut the painting up and give each person their piece of JOY. Something to hold onto, something that we could bring back together in the future. Together apart.
We created a card to go with each painting.
Christmas Together Apart
Jeremy and I are heartbroken that we can’t set up a family outing like we have over the past few year; paint parties, bowling, and an escape room.
So, we created this painting with our Christmas wish for you, JOY. Each person has a little piece, and one day we’ll bring it back together.
Merry Christmas & Much Love
JOY, mixed media on paper, DEC 2020
JOY, cut into pieces and mounted to cardstock.
Individual piece, signed and ready for delivery.
Having this to focus on helped me survive our isolated Christmas. Being able to create something for my family and deliver it to their homes, brought me JOY. Something that I desperately needed.
I wish you all love and joy.