The holiday season is in full swing.  It’s by far my favorite time of year.  From the time I was a child and anxiously awaited the opening of neatly wrapped gifts…to the time when I came to the realization that it is truly more blessed to give than to receive.  It is a season to spend with family and friends.  Our homes are decorated, our children excited, and our taste buds are anxious.  Its placement at the end of the year, wraps the season in the warmth of reflection.  It’s a time when we stop and look back at the year that is coming to a close.  This can result in overwhelming thankfulness, peace and joy as the highlights of the year dance through our heads. 

Holidays, however, don’t just deliver the “feel goods”.  They have a way of amplifying and magnifying things that are missing in our lives.  If you are single…you never feel more single than at Christmas time.  I’ve lived across the country from my family for a decade now, yet homesickness is foreign to me because Arkansas is now home….until the month of December.  And of course, there are few things that affect the mood of a holiday like the passing of a loved one.  It really doesn’t matter what time of the year that they passed; that first season without them is a killer. 

I lost my father in April of 2012.  I remember approaching the holiday season that year, and 7 months of healing was completely unraveled at the unwelcome realization of Christmas without him.  How do you have Christmas without mom…she always did the decorating.  How do you have Christmas without Dad…he always read the Christmas story before the opening of the presents.  How do you have Christmas without that son or daughter…the one who, for you, Christmas has revolved around since you brought them into the world?

Holidays have become Hollow days.  They don’t feel the same.  They don’t mean what they have in the past.  Anticipation has been replaced with dread.  Excitement has been supplanted by depression.  Emptiness has stormed in and taken the place of fulfillment.  Hollow.  These days I used to love seem hollow. 

I’m writing this to let you know that you’re not crazy!  Of course they seem hollow!

My father was such an important part of my life that his absence feels like it’s just as impactful as his presence was.

And that’s ok!  Isn’t this feeling of hollowness just another testament to the price of love? 

So, let’s just stay this way?  Depressed…Empty…Hollow?  That’s not what I’m saying.  I just think it’s important to recognize what we feel, and why we feel this way.  Hollow means to have a space inside.  That space was created by the loss of a loved one.  So let’s fill that space. 

I read a quote that said, “For the rest of my life, I will search for moments filled with you.”  But I’ve decided to amend this as a life motto…”For the rest of my life, I will create moments filled with you.”

I love to play music.  I play in churches, at funeral homes, in living rooms, on stages, in back yards…I even drive an hour to the sticks of Story, Arkansas to play music in a gas station for 4 hours on a Saturday night.  You know why?  My dad loved playing music.  I cheat at games to beat my kids…because my dad did.  I purposely mispronounce the names of their friends…because my dad did.  I will create moments full of him.

So this holiday season…let me encourage you.  If it feels like hollow days…fill them with that one you are missing. 

“I can’t put up Christmas lights this year because she loved Christmas lights.”  How about put them up…because she loved them??

“I won’t bake a pecan pie because that was his favorite.”  How about bake the pecan pie…because it was his favorite??

I can’t…I won’t…I shouldn’t…because it will make me think of them.  Is that so bad?  Really?  You were married to him for 52 years…you should think about him.  She was your best friend….you should think of her.  Fill the days.  Fill them with memories, stories, traditions; things that make you think of them…and I have a hunch, hollow days might go back to feeling more like holidays. 

-AG