By Her View From Home 
It’s officially that magical time of year when everything seems to shine a little brighter. People seem to scowl a little less and smile a little more. Everything glitters and sparkles. And while part of me wants to soak up every single second of that magic, there is the tiniest little voice in the back of my head that constantly reminds me that things can change in an instant, and we may not have the same people standing around the tree with us next year.
For anyone with a sick parent (or spouse or child or friend), I’m sure this is a thought that has crossed your mind. Even if you are fortunate to have perfectly healthy people in your life, maybe it’s an older grandparent or neighbor you think about, pray about. Please God, don’t let this be their last earthly Christmas.
Just to be clear, we weren’t given any indication this could even possibly be my dad’s last Christmas. His doctors have never given him a timeline, never used the hard-hitting phrases that so many families unfortunately are navigating through this time of year. I don’t think (hopefully) the thought has even crossed his own mind. But it’s crossed mine—more often than it should, and my heart breaks knowing there are so many others out there silently suffering the same.
The cancer he had wasn’t supposed to be “that bad.” It was supposed to be a wait-and-see scenario. Until it wasn’t. Until it came back time and time again over the last couple of years, with a vengeance. Until it spread to other places we never would have expected. Until every “quick” ER trip became so much more complicated than just that. It’s when you’re in that never-ending spiral of bad news texts and calls that you start to think of the grim reality.
What if this is the last Christmas? Three hundred sixty-five days is a long time, and we’ve seen firsthand how things can change in the literal blink of an eye. What if this is all we get? Do we allow ourselves to think those deep, dark thoughts in hopes that it forces us to make every single second count? Do we push them all the way down and go about life as normal? Should we just focus on being grateful for all the Christmases we did have?
I don’t think there’s a one-size-fits-all answer. Maybe for you, it means spending as much time as physically possible with that person. Maybe it means the opposite because it hurts too much to think about. Maybe it means constantly reliving the days of Christmases past in your mind. Maybe it means the opposite.
Not only does it put things into perspective for you, but it also puts you at a complete crossroads of how to feel. Do you ignore the dark cloud that’s been looming for months and keep up a completely optimistic approach, or do you brace yourself for the realistic possibilities? For me, it has to be a balance of both.
I need to face my feelings head-on so that I don’t let them consume me. I have to be okay with them and allow myself to feel them. But I can’t live there. Not now. Now, I need to remember what this time of year is about. It’s about being with those we love without any kind of hesitation or doubt. It’s about celebrating Christmas and all the magic it brings. It’s about making it the best holiday season you can, regardless if it’s the first, the last, or the hundredth. The truth of the matter is, we just never know.
And if you’re a mama like me, it’s about making sure those little faces looking back at you don’t sense your sadness or fear for even a second. Let them live in the moment. Live in the magic. For just a few days, don’t let the scary thoughts of the outside world creep into their little minds or hearts.
Don’t live like it’s the last Christmas, live like it’s the best Christmas.
by Jenni Brennan 
by John Polo 
