Dear God,

It’s December – the end of a long, hard year – for all of us. I’m all out of patience—and I’m not praying for any. Not today. Not this week. Actually, maybe ever. Definitely, not during the season of tinsel, tension, and trying not to scream in the cheese aisle at Safeway.

The truth is, this time of year is hard. Not Hallmark hard-real-life hard. Holiday movies forget to include the part where the caregiver burns the cookies and the last nerve in the same afternoon. Where traditions become landmines. Where you’re trying to hold on to some semblance of joy, and your loved one is just trying to understand what the fuss is all about.

This season, I’ve been riding the roller coaster of frustration. My tank is empty, my fuse is short, and I have no energy for “extra”- not extra errands, not extra expectations, and definitely not extra opinions from people who don’t understand.

But here’s what I do have room for: cocoa. Glowing candles. Quiet moments. Lopsided cookies. Cinnamon Sunset Tea. Music that sparks something good in both my mom and me.

I’m learning—slowly—to lean into those things. To stop trying to recreate Christmas past and instead meet the season (and my mama) where we are now. This year, that means embracing smaller traditions, letting go of perfection, and choosing peace over performance.

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I still miss my “old” life. But I also know that for her, this time of year is hard too. It’s her anniversary on Christmas. My routines are off and it throws her. Her reality is different this year. She doesn’t understand why I need ten minutes of alone time just to survive. It’s just bonkers. So I breathe. And I whisper-scream, “I’m trying.” And I ask God for grace instead of more patience, because grace reminds me I’m human too. And, boy am I ever human.

And in the middle of the hard, I’ve seen glimpses of wonder. A twinkle in her eye when a favorite song played. A moment of laughter that wasn’t wrapped in sadness. That’s the gift I’m clinging to. That’s the memory I’m making. That’s Christmas this year. And it’s enough. I am loving the simplicity and the gentleness of it.

So if you’re barely hanging on, if your nerves are frayed and your eggnog has turned into emotional egg-slop-join me and the one Christmas decoration I have up. Let’s ditch the pressure and soak in what is instead of mourning what was.

You are doing sacred work, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And you, my friend, deserve peace too. So make it simple, and find the peace- even when it’s not easy.

With my last sliver of patience, a frayed nerve, and a cup of peppermint cocoa, I’m hugging you all! Soak in the spirit of Christmas, the magic of the moment in front of you – and take a deep breath. I’ve got this – and so do you.

Caregiver Hack of the Week:

Create a “Holiday Joy Basket” – just for you.
Toss in a cozy blanket, one good chocolate bar (not the kids’ Halloween leftovers), a favorite mug, and a playlist of songs that make you smile. When it all feels too much, go to your basket. Five minutes of sanity can do wonders – just don’t forget where you hid it. And, if you have the miracle of an hour – a hot bath with bubbles – is an amazing escape.