foster children

A Childless Holiday Can Be Anything You Want it to Be

Sue Fagalde Lick Central oregon coast, childless at Christmas, Childless holidays, foster children , , , , , , , ,

There was a moment Christmas Eve when I looked out from my seat in the choir at the beautiful families in church and wanted to weep. I don’t have that. I will never have that. I will never be the mom surrounded by children and grandchildren with her handsome husband by her side.

But I was not alone. I was with our eight-person choir, who feel like family, and I had songs to sing and play, with solos to perform. I had to pull it together, even if I was just going through the motions. I admit that I visited the liquor cabinet after Mass and toasted my late husband with a bit of Cointreau, a French liqueur he left behind.

Christmas day dawned gray and rainy, but I felt better. I sat beside my Christmas tree and opened the presents I had not already opened the day before—who’s to tell me when to open my gifts?

The ones from family felt as if they didn’t really know me, but I had another Mass to play music for, so I didn’t dwell on it. I made myself a breakfast of fresh strawberries, a homemade muffin, and tea and dressed for Christmas Day Mass. Instead of Christmas Eve’s long skirt that was constantly in my way, I wore black slacks, a green shirt, and a sparkly vest—I was comfortable and festive.

I look back on my Christmas day in brightly colored mental snapshots and feel blessed.

At church, I played the piano. We sang carols and solos before Mass, and my song went as well as it possibly could. The church sparkled with red flowers and people in their holiday clothes. I love our small white church by the sea and all the people in it.

After Mass, I dashed home for lunch—a meat loaf sandwich, my favorite. I played a CD of Handel’s “Messiah” while making my salad for dinner with friends. I talked for a long time on the phone with my best friend in California, then drove 45 minutes up the coast to pick up Orpha, a friend, from her senior residence. Childless and widowed like me, she is still gorgeous in her 80s, and fun. We laughed and talked until we arrived at our friends’ house. There, it was a riot of gift wrappings, food, cookies, wine, and yes, kids, two teens and a little one. After their biological kids grew up, our hosts became foster parents. They specialize in teens with gender identity issues.

Most years, I spend at least one of the holidays there, and it always feels like home. It feels like family—no, it feels better than family because all of the people there have been chosen. My friends have collected me and Orpha, the two men who share a house across the street, their own children, their foster children, and their dogs and cats. It’s loud, crazy and wonderful, and I don’t feel a lack of anything.

Shortly after darkness fell, we oldies headed home. I traded my church/party clothes for soft PJs and settled in to watch the new Meg Ryan movie on Amazon Prime.

The doorbell rang. I paused the movie. My young neighbors and their friends sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” in perfect harmony, just for me. They all hugged me, and they gave me cookies, a giant candy cane, and a big beautiful photo taken in the location of my novel Up Beaver Creek. So sweet.

My brother’s family, whom I miss a lot, was having a more traditional Christmas with the kids and grandkids. My best friend was at her adult daughter’s home, but they weren’t getting along and she had a stomachache. Not all family holidays are joyful. If I were with family, I might have felt the lack of my own children and my late husband more deeply. It comes and goes. I have losses to grieve, but at the same time I have so much freedom and so much love in my life.

There is life beyond childlessness. It can be beautiful. You do need to reach out to other people and let them reach out to you. If you close the door and wallow in your loneliness, well, you will be lonely.

How did your holiday go? I’d love to hear the good, bad and ugly. Did you feel sad about not having children or relieved? Did you do anything a standard family might not have done? One couple I know went to Cabo. Why not?

A few days ago, when I was feeling creative, I wrote a new Christmas song. Click here if you’d like to hear it. Let me know if the link doesn’t work.

Next weekend is the New Year’s holiday. What will you do differently next year?

Thank you all for being here. I treasure your comments.

Photo by Nick Collins on Pexels.com

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Being the childless aunt is not so bad

Sue Fagalde Lick childless at Thanksgiving, childless aunts, foster children, Uncategorized , , , , , , ,

Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone. How did you fare?

I went to California to spend time with my dad. For Thanksgiving, I drove him to the mountains near Yosemite where my brother lives. Traveling with a 96-year-old man who can’t stand without a walker, who doesn’t see or hear well, and who tends toward the cranky side, is not easy.

And then there were the babies. But that was the good part for me. I’m well past the age when people ask when I’m going to procreate. In fact, they don’t ask much about me and my life at all. Well, Dad grills me about my finances, but that’s a whole other thing.

It was a small group. We’ve been shrinking in recent years due to death, illness, and certain people not wanting to be with certain other people. My nephew, divorced, delivered his daughter to her mother’s house and spent the afternoon caring for his ailing grandmother. I was sorry to miss the little girl; I keep hoping I can build a relationship with her, but it won’t happen if I only see her once a year.

Meanwhile, my niece’s kids, a 21-month-old former foster son she adopted and a six-month-old foster daughter she hopes to adopt, provided the entertainment.

I was enchanted by the little girl, one of the prettiest babies I have ever seen (no online pictures allowed for foster children). When I held her and she smiled at me with her little toothless mouth, when she gripped my finger with her tiny fingers, and when she sang just for the pleasure of making noise, I fell in love. I know for some of you, just seeing a baby breaks your heart, but I hope you will come to that place I have reached where you treasure the magic of holding a baby, even if it isn’t your own.

And then be glad you don’t have to deal with an almost two-year old running around grabbing at things, throwing turkey, rubbing mashed potatoes in his hair, torturing the dog, screaming, falling, and screaming again. In perpetual motion, he’s like a wild puppy you can’t throw outside when it gets to be too much. Nothing is safe, except when he’s sleeping. He can’t help it. Everything is new and exciting, but I admire my niece for her strength and love, especially as a single mother. I don’t know if I could do that. Certainly not at this age. Could I have done it when I was young? I expected to. It just didn’t happen.

These days, I’m happy being the aunt and great-aunt. I strive to be the aunt they adore and let the parents be the exhausted ones with baby goo on their clothes and in their hair. Really, I’m okay with it now. I don’t want to take a baby home.

What I do want is grown kids and grandkids. You know, what almost everybody else has. That’s what makes me sad. I had it for a while with my late husband’s children and grandchildren. But now that he’s gone, they’re gone.

A couple years ago when I was bemoaning my childless status, a family member told me it was my own damned fault, that I had my chance. No, I didn’t.

So, how did your Thanksgiving go? How do you plan to cope with Christmas? And what do I buy a baby and a toddler for Christmas presents? I don’t suppose I can send them a copy of my latest book. 🙂

Hugs to all of you. I look forward to your comments.