6 Gifts to Give Yourself This Holiday Season: Even with Cancer

I’m in New Jersey with the grands while The Parents are conspicuously absent. Hint: The Parents are in a place that involves sunglasses, fun T-shirts and odd-looking ears.

Because life happens, and life included cancer, Hubby and I intentionally simplified Christmas gift-giving: gifts for the grandchildren, and warm fuzzy soft knitted creations for the beautiful women in my life. Oh, and a very generous gift I’m giving to myself this year as a cancer widow.

Actually, 6 very generous gifts — gifts we can all give to ourselves:


  1. The gift of travel to where there are people who love us.

After the cancer diagnosis, our goals changed. One of the changes was a determination to be with loved ones at times that are most important — holidays, weddings, newborns, graduations, MMA black belt tests. Being present and engaged isn’t just a gift we give to whoever we’re present and engaged with; it’s also a gift we give ourselves. As we work on the relationship-strengthening thing, it eventually comes back around. 

  1. The gift of being in service.

Confession: Part of the blame for The Parents being absent is mine. Daughter Summer and SIL Josh’s anniversary is mid-December, and I’m the one who shooed them away since they don’t get overnight-kid-breaks unless there’s a grandparent present. Here’s how being in service is a gift to us: By doing something in love for someone else, we give ourselves deep overpowering crazy joy.

  1. The gift of making memories.

The cool thing about memories is they can’t be taken from us. I took the four youngest grandchildren to Barnes & Noble the other night where their classmates and teachers and principal were assembled for book-reading and a book scavenger hunt and peppermint-hot-chocolate-drinking. Who needs Disney World when there’s Barnes & Noble?

  1. The gift of creating adventure.

The Four Littles and I ventured out to see a live nativity scene one evening. Groups of 50 at a time were led to each of the eight stations. Sheep in a wooden-staked pen, shepherds huddled around a bonfire, angels on a hillside, the town of Bethlehem with its noisy street vendors and Roman soldiers on foot and horseback, an innkeeper turning away a young pregnant couple, a manger scene with barnyard animals, Herod’s court, three wise men leading a camel.

I think the Christmas story has come more alive for The Four Littles who had so many questions about why those people were sitting around a bonfire, and where did the angels come from, and why was the king yelling, and could they pet the camel.

Had we stayed indoors out of the finger-numbing cold, we would have been more comfortable, considerably warmer, with no standing around waiting for the next scene to unfold. And no memorable adventure.

  1. The gift of self-talk.

Sometimes it’s easier to stay home because we have cancer and we’re on a special diet and it’s an imposition to the hostess. Or we’re widowed single older slower and don’t want to be in the way.

And sometimes we can play the *It’s-their-turn-to-come-to-us* game. When that happens, I think we should consider each situation. For example, I’ve traveled more frequently to Jersey than Jersey has come to me. But there are eight in the Jersey family. And it’s 2,396 miles for them to drive to me. Or 8 airplane tickets at a bazillion dollars total. And so I’m not counting who owes who a visit.

Practice saying after me: “It’s their turn to come see me, but it’s easier for me to travel to them.” “These people want me here; I am not a fifth wheel.” “My doctor said I can travel and my parents children siblings cousins friends really do want to see me.” 

  1. The gift of gratitude.

This season, even without Hubby, so much to be grateful for — the airline miles to book the flight to the land of kids and grands; every Bethlehem adventure, silly knock-knock joke and Uno card game with generationally-competitive grandchildren who have no mercy for their grandmother; every one-on-one conversation over vanilla steamers, chocolate steamers, ice cream cones; every bedtime story, cuddle, tickle, giggle, noisy kiss; even every eye-roll from The Teens as I fall naturally into imitating their grandfather’s corny humor when I’m around them.

This from David Steindl-Rast:

“The root of joy is gratefulness.”

Already and enduringly, the 2016 season is a gift-laden joy-filled time for me. Go ahead, give something of value to yourself this holiday season.

Side note: In case you didn’t guess by now, The Parents are in a land called Orlando. As in Disney World. That Orlando. Not the first time The Parents visited Disney World without their children. And probably not the last.

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