December Expectations

Today is December 1st. It is the first day of what is normally a busy month for most people. There’s an expectation that you should be happy and positive, buy gifts, wrap them, attend concerts, enjoy cozy gatherings with colleagues and family, and then culminate in a fantastic Christmas Eve where the food is perfect, the candles burn brightly, and everyone is happy.

Did you feel out of breath? I do. In previous years, I’ve baked cookies, cooked extensively, decorated the house, and left no detail to chance.

This year, however, is different. It must be different. Life has forced me forward through sorrowful events. I lost my husband in October. Suddenly. How can I possibly be happy and positive in this cheer-laden month when the most important person in my life is no longer sitting at the table?

I need to consider the expectations placed on me, the expectations I place on myself, and what expectations are even realistic.

I feel as though I am at a standstill. My life has been reduced to a low flame, a quiet existence. I am the center of my dog’s world, and without her, it would be hard to get out of bed and have even a modestly structured day. I get up, we go for walks, I go to work, and I have someone waiting for me at home who joyfully throws herself into my arms when I return.

This year, 2024, also marks 60 years since I first saw the gray, wintery light of the world in my parents’ bedroom. Normally, I would celebrate with friends, family, and colleagues. They still expect me to celebrate, but I will have to disappoint them. On the day itself, there are only eight people I wish to see. Five are my closest colleagues who understand my situation and support me. They will come for brunch.

The next two are my closest friends who might join for an informal visit. I expect they’ll come, but I won’t pressure them since they’re not in the best of health.

The last person I would love to see may or may not come. I don’t expect it, but I hope.

In a world where the Christmas season is expected to be a time of joy, it is hard to allow space for quiet, for dark thoughts, for grief. But I think it is important to make room for them.

Don’t forget those who can’t join you at the table this month. Allow yourself to grieve and let go of the expectation that everything must be light and joy.

The Bible tells a beautiful story about Jesus entering Jerusalem on a donkey. He asks his disciples to go into the city and find a donkey, and they are told they may borrow it with the promise that its owner will have it returned immediately. (Matthew chapter 21, verses 1-9) Jesus then rides into Jerusalem to fulfill an ancient prophecy that the King of the Jews would come riding on a donkey. The people understood and hailed him as the long-awaited king. This was their expectation in a time of Roman occupation. But Jesus, in a way, knew better, which is why he also promised the donkey would be promptly returned. He fulfilled an expectation even though he himself expected something entirely different.

I think this balance between what is expected and what is reality is important to remember in our highly commercialized December and Christmas season. We need to look inward and ask ourselves: What burdens make it hard for me to meet expectations—whether they come as ideals or old traditions? How do they make a difference for me in my current situation, which is so different from the past and from yours? It’s deeply personal for everyone. We all have dark moments, whether known or hidden.

Once I understand my dark places, I can better see them and maybe glimpse the light on the other side of the darkness. Then, perhaps, I will notice the joys and get through everyone’s expectations for a happy holiday season because I have made peace with the darkness and the silence.

For many, the end of December is a time to glance back over the shoulder and set hopes for the future. Of course, I’m thinking of New Year’s when many make resolutions for the coming year. It’s yet another set of expectations for the year ahead. In the deepest darkness of the year, it seems natural for many to set goals and hopes for themselves for the coming year.

I haven’t made such resolutions before because, in general, I was satisfied with my life. But this year, I think I’ll make an exception because, as I see it now, life can only get better. I actually deserve it to get better. Yet, I’m not sure if it’s entirely right to wrestle with life in this way. Aren’t I just trapping myself again in a set of expectations that might easily turn into disappointments?

Expectations and disappointments are inextricably linked. I can expect to receive a certain gift or for something specific to happen, thinking it would make me happy in life. The higher my expectations, the easier it is to be disappointed when my wishes aren’t fulfilled. And each time I’m disappointed, I am pulled deeper into feelings of inadequacy and doubt about my life. But that’s not where I want to go—on the contrary!

My resolutions for 2025 will be about daring to embrace the darkness to see the light. About befriending silence to hear life’s melody and music. About being present in solitude to enjoy the company of others. About accepting grief to rediscover love.

I hope you find a way through the many expectations you and others have for yourself this December. I hope you are not overwhelmed by disappointments, but when they come, ask yourself what they can do for you to help you move forward in life.

With these words, I wish you a reflective December and holiday season!