When I was younger, I would look forward to Christmas with eager anticipation....mostly for the PRESENTS! I loved the mystery of not knowing what might be under the tree. I'm not sure to this day if it was Mum's deliberate intention to keeps us on our toes each year, but very rarely did we actually get what we 'ordered' in our Christmas letter to Santa, no matter how good we had been. But that was because often Mum had something even better up her sleeve. I remember many a Christmas Eve of sneaking a good long, lingering look at the Christmas tree during my walk from my bedroom to the toilet and back once everyone was asleep. I loved the unknown!
Sadly, it seems to be expected that as you grow up, your excitement for Christmas should dwindle out and that eventually you will say very grown up statements like: 'no, don't bother getting me anything this year, I don't need anything', or worse: 'let's just buy for the kids this year'. Because as an adult, we seem to lose that love for the unknown, and instead we like to plan our lives down to what presents we will be receiving from which family member, or not at all.
It's the same for most facets of life. We try our best to plan ahead, to prepare both physically and emotionally for what is to come. There are very few who actually enjoy living week to week without a care in the world, the rest of us rely on stability, predictability, and routine.
In the same way that we expect, at the most basic level, to wake up each morning. That we expect, naturally, that our loves ones will all wake up each morning. That we expect, naturally, to be able to look forward to milestones we will experience in the future without hesitation.
There were tears when I put my girls to bed tonight. Not the loud tantrum tears of my adorable Lucy, who at the age of two, knows all the tricks to get mum and dad to come back to her room several times before settling off to sleep. Not even the protesting cries of my tiny precious Ava, who at three months is figuring out that when she is zipped into her sleeping bag, she is expected to sleep. No, the tears were the silent and soft, very grown up tears, and they belonged to me.
Because today I have been reminded to expect the unexpected. I have been reminded that I cannot rely on us all just waking up everyday like it is a personal right.
This morning, i woke up to the news that a mother from my August mothers group experienced the unexpected in the early hours of today. Her son, who would have been 3 months in a few days, failed to wake up. Her precious second-born child, her innocent little baby boy, her darling little man. He didn't wake up. She expected he would, naturally. When she put him to sleep last night, or perhaps after a feed early this morning, she of course expected he would wake again. And when she woke, and he didn't....well, I can't imagine.
All day, I have been amazed at the support, love and outpouring of grief felt by all who hear of this story. It is shocking, so sudden. So many have been moved to help in any way they can, and support has been offered at all levels to those who wish to share their grief with others. We are all in it together, supporting this family with everything we can. Because we are saddened for them. And it is terrifying. Terrifying because it is so close to home. Terrifying because it could have been any of us. Terrifying because we hadn't expected it.
The fact that your child may not make it through the night doesn't occur to most people, naturally. Why would it? We are planners. Expecting that the days will play out as we have planned, that in the morning we will all rise to meet another day. But what is the alternative? We can't go to sleep every night wondering if tonight the darkness would fall on our home. Thinking that each night might be the last. Constantly looking over our shoulder waiting for death to arrive.
No, we can't. But we can acknowledge that each day is a blessing we didn't necessarily earn or deserve. We can thank our lucky stars (or God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in) that we have loved ones to cling to, and that we wake to live another day. And we can plan for the worst by remembering what is its important in our lives.
When I put my girls to sleep tonight, as I cried into their sweet heads of hair (Mummy! You're making sweaty!), all I could do was have hope that they will both live long, healthy lives. Because focusing on the alternative would do my head in.
Spend a moment tonight thinking of all you have to be grateful for. And cherish your loved ones.
And as for the unknown, it terrifies me these days. I want to know exactly what is in store for us all and adjust my expectations accordingly. So honey, I'd love a coffee machine for Christmas please.
