Reflections from the Kitchen Sink on The First Christmas with out Michael

by Melinda Campbell (Melinda’s husband, Michael, was killed by a drunk driver in 2015.)

The First Christmas Without My Husband

Our first Christmas without Michael was tense. We were invited to join family in Colorado and ventured out there. It was nice, but awkward. We obviously enjoyed being with them, but it was hard to force down the feelings of Michael’s not being there. There were a lot of tears hidden. We had some giggles, some good food, and some laughter and exchanged nice gifts, but his absence was felt in so many ways. 

I remember pushing through that like I have so many days. My kids needed it, I thought. Sitting home by ourselves would be too sad. Being the third-wheel family by accepting an invitation to join friends would be awkward. It was just hard. 

Another stressor was the huge change in income. No, Christmas isn’t about gifts, but when kids have been set up with certain patterns, big changes can be riveting. There my boys were with a mom two feet down in the quick sand of depression who didn’t have the focus, energy, or money to shop like she once had. The critics in the world would say they were old enough to deal with the realities of our new life. From the front lines of the battle, I would disagree. 

My pride took a hit when a group came to me and said they wanted to give me some money to help with Christmas that year. The lady who came to me with that news was someone with whom I was acquainted on Facebook, but we didn’t know each other in the real world. I told her I knew there were people with much bigger needs than ours (which was very true), but she insisted we were the family they’d been led to help. She told me to use the money on anything we wanted. I was humbled, grateful, and embarrassed all at the same time. It was a few hundred dollars, best I remember. I sent part of it to Santa for a bigger gift for the kids, and we tipped a waitress near the airport extra generously with the balance the day of our flight out. (I thought she was going to cry.) 

Christmas Day came and went, and it was time to return home. A friend had helped Cam get me a gift before we’d traveled, and my niece had helped the boys with some crafty gifts.

Both of those efforts were greatly appreciated. 
This is where you might miss my point if we’re not careful. Those gifts were wonderful. Really. There was a huge part of my heart empty though. It had nothing to do with the number of gifts or the size of those gifts. It had everything to do with the missing gift from my companion.

When Michael and I married, he was broke—well, worse than broke. He had been injured at work and off for months right as we started dating and had spent every dime to pay child support, truck insurance, and the “quick and easy” payments on a loan he had for a guitar and amp. In other words, our first Christmas was tight. As our years progressed and careers solidified, gifts became more extravagant, but it was never about the gifts to me; it was about the effort behind them. (Getting stuff isn’t my love language…we can talk about that another day.) 

The boys and I landed back in Nashville on Cam’s birthday. I promised him a quick stop at Rainforest Cafe for a birthday meal before we headed home, so off to Opry Mills we went. We found a good parking spot by Bass Pro, so used their entrance to enter the mall. Cam was into that store’s merch anyway at the time, so that was a bonus. We had our meal and ventured back through to leave and head home. Cam asked me to give him a minute to use some of his birthday and Christmas gift money, and I said that would be fine. He also told me he wanted to do it on his own, so I hovered from a distance and made Colin stay right with him. 

When we left, Cam handed me the plastic shipping bag with a collection of earrings inside. He spent nearly $15 dollars of his money on some sparkly jewelry for his mom. Yes, I wept. Yes, I’m crying again now, five years later. Every year since, I’ve pulled these earrings out and proudly worn them through the holidays. They remind me of both the humble beginnings of my marriage to his daddy and the huge heart my kiddo has. 

If you know me at all, you know I’m leaned up against my sink typing this memory with my thumbs. These sink moments get pretty emotional a lot. I miss my guy a lot, but I am thankful to see the best parts of him in our boys. It came to me while standing here that the reflections of their dad are my gifts from Michael every year now. He was never one to wrap things in the prettiest of packages, but these two young men don’t need fancy bows to look impressive to me this morning.

Oh, my gravy, it’s going to be another roller coaster heart day. I better refill my coffee cup and settle myself a bit before I wake the kiddos. They dealt with a tearful mom last night when I gave them their gifts, so they don’t need to see weepy mom first thing today. Cowgirl, up! (Good thing I’ve got long enough legs to get on this horse without a lot of extra effort. I just hope this ride can be one those gentle pasture types, not a bucking one.) 

Many blessings to you from my spot here at the sink…until next time…Merry Christmas. 

And Merry Christmas to you, Melinda! Thanks for being a part of our NanaHood family and thanks for being my friend.

Bio-All Reflections from the Kitchen Sink posts are written by Melinda Campbell. Melinda is a retired educator who currently focuses her efforts on raising her two teenaged boys, advocating for individuals with special needs and against drunk driving, and serving in her local community. Melinda has been gaining recognition for her writings labeled “Reflections from my Kitchen Sink” since the tragic death of her husband Michael in 2015. In her stories, she shares observations from her daily life including moments she has as a solo parent, a widow, and a woman who battles significant health issues including fibromyalgia and depression. BIG ANNOUNCEMENT- New Kitchen Sink Merchandise-Click Here?