When I was younger, Christmas season excites me. I look forward to school parties where my classmates and I would play games and exchange gifts. As early as October, my parents and I put up a Christmas tree as we decorate our house with lanterns and lights.
mother cooks spaghetti and Arroz a la Valenciana for Noche Buena while my father usually comes home with ham. It used to be a delightful occasion, and my father would not miss celebrating it with bottles of beer, telling jokes.
For many Filipinos, Christmas is the most jovial time of the year. The festivities and abundant food remind everyone to take a break from work and reconnect with family and friends. People are more likely to smile, say hello, and wish others well. We buy gifts for those who are important to us to express our gratitude and love.
But the seasonal call to rejoice might turn into the heaviest of obligations.
I lost my father early this year. And for the first time in my life, I felt that celebrating Christmas is something I am bound to do.
I woke up on March 15 as my mother screamed for help. I found my father lying in bed, unconscious, struggling to breathe. It was heart attack. He was gone just like that—my strong and jolly father—79 days before my college graduation. There were neither goodbyes nor warnings. It was too sudden that I still dream about him at night.
The magic of Christmas was lost to me. The sparkly, celebratory season turned into a humdrum. Attending parties and buying gifts became a joyless, meaningless activity. The mere thought of decorating a Christmas tree brought back so many memories that I hated having one in our house. But I couldn’t just throw it away. We hold on to those things in the same way that we hold on to the memories of those who are now gone.
This is my saddest December, my first Christmas without him. I would no longer hear his jokes and hearty laugh as he drinks his favorite beer. He would no longer be around to slice our holiday ham. From now on, there would only be mom and I for Noche Buena.
Dear Reader, maybe you are missing an estranged friend or a deceased family member, too. Perhaps, like me, you wanted to bring back your old life when everything was simpler and happier. This season, we are not only unwrapping boxes of gifts. We also open our wounds, grieve for our loss, and recognize our pain.
Christmas decorations transform our homes and communities, but a change in thought can also bring a difference in how we see our lives. There is always something to celebrate. And during Christmas, we celebrate the arrival of our Savior Jesus Christ who knows are suffering. Even in the darkest of Decembers, we can still find the light in our lives.
As you flip through the pages of our Christmas supplement, I hope you will be reminded of the real reason as to why we have this special occasion.
My father is very much alive in my thoughts—eating with Mom and I at our dining table for Noche Buena, holding a glass of beer.
