Tomorrow is Christmas. I can't tell you how much that holiday has changed for Jeanne and me. During the first 6 years of our marriage, those years prior to Jeanne's MS diagnosis, Christmas was fairly typical (whatever that means) at our house. Jeanne and I had already decided that we were not going to have children, so the presents were for all for us. Books, music, a sweater...maybe a piece of jewelry for Jeanne.
Things changed in 1997, the year Jeanne was diagnosed with secondary progressive MS. A bit of online research helped me to understand that Jeanne's MS was not going to be as well-mannered as some of what we see in the pamphlets and periodicals meant to teach us about coping with MS -- where very few of those smiling folks seem to be disabled. Jeanne's condition was likely to progress...and progress, without remission. It seemed as though Jeanne was likely to get worse and worse over a shorter period of time than others. And that's pretty much the way it happened.
So I decided to front-load our Christmases with as much fun as possible. To have Santa deliver as many great moments and experiences to Jeanne while she could still enjoy them. And from 1997 through the next five years, Christmas was an amazing time. Staying on a deluxe barge on the River Seine in Paris, while Jeanne could still walk down the Champs Elysee. Cruising among the glaciers in Alaska. Flying to see Paul McCartney in concert (while taking a side-trip to the world-renowned Cleveland Clinic to discuss some treatment options). Taking in the sites in Hawaii while staying at wonderful 5-star hotels. If there was a way for me to bring joy into Jeanne's life while she was still able to be a full participant, then it was happening on Christmas.
By 2002, our over-the-top Christmas celebrations came to an end. Jeanne's symptoms had progressed to the point where it became too difficult for her to travel or eat in restaurants or even see clearly enough to enjoy a view. And now, as she is confined to the hospital bed we've set up at home, the options for Christmas gifts are even fewer. No clothes. No shoes. No jewelry. No trips. No DVDs. No books. No food. In fact this year, I haven't been able to come up with much more than music. So she'll be getting some great CDs tomorrow.
Some people might second-guess me and determine that it might have made more sense to forego some of those outrageous Christmas gifts and save that money for a future that would clearly require even greater financial resources. I can't argue with that. I can only say that I made a different choice. And it's a choice that I've never regretted for even a moment. In just five years, I set out to create Christmas memories to last a lifetime. And I know that I succeeded.
I'd like to wish everyone a happy and peace-filled holiday season. May each of you share the Christmas memory you're most hoping for.
Hi,
I've decided to start a Blog Carnival specifically for those with MS or those who discuss MS. You are invited to participate. Information is available at http://brassandivory.blogspot.com/2007/12/announcing-new-carnival-of-ms-bloggers.html
thanks,
Lisa
Posted by: Lisa Emrich | December 26, 2007 at 08:18 PM
We usually get mother night gowns, socks, and blankets. That's about all we can give her now.
Posted by: Patti | January 19, 2008 at 10:40 AM