Thursday, December 11, 2008

Christmas Blues

This blog post really says it all.

A Christmas spent, not alone, but with less people. Or I should say with one less person.

Yesterday I put up the Christmas decorations. The Tree, nativity scene, stockings, etc. And it was all done without my mom. She is usually the one who puts up the tree and tells us which ornaments go where, to make it look good. But this year, there was silence. No "move that ornament" or "we are NOT putting that decoration up" (Usually referring to some old dinky thing we made as kids). I didn't get to hear her laughing, or saying "I love you". It was different. And it's going to continue to be different. I know that the one thing I am going to miss this Christmas the MOST is sleeping in the living room on Christmas eve, with my mom walking out and me waking up to see her. But I would have missed that anyway. Maybe it's her telling me Merry Christmas and giving me a hug. I think I am going to miss everything about her. She was the one who made Christmas special. She always made sure we had plans and she always assured us that it is going to be a good Christmas every year, and every year she was right.

I guess it's inevitable. I am going to miss her no matter what. Everyone has that ONE Christmas wish, whether it be a phone, car, book, or whatever. Well, my ONE Christmas wish is to be able to spend it with my mom, and since I know it won't come true, then I just want to be happy. On Thanksgiving I spent the day with my family because I wanted them to be happy. But this one Christmas is more important. It means starting whole new traditions and changing everything. There is a time for everything under the sun. A time to end and a time to start over... It's time to start over.

Via The Other McCain.

This year, in a word, sucked. My father died in March. My best friend's mother (the woman I called my second mother) died over the summer. My husband's grandmother died last month. And my ex-mother-in-law died last week. I've been to more funerals this year than any year of my life, and by the time I was trying to comfort both my daughter and her father last week, I felt like an expert in the grief department.

For me, today marks the slow, sad march to the anniversary of my father's death. This was the day he went into the hospital, and he never went home again. It was a scary and devastating Christmas spent split between my husband and children at home and my father at the hospital. I was torn emotionally for months, fearful of what was to come, tired from long commutes from work to the hospital to home late at night, and nearly numb to the end I knew was coming.

I can identify with April McLean, author of that post. Christmas doesn't seem like Christmas this year. We haven't decorated because we are going away this year for the first time ever. And for the first time in my life, I have no parents.

But I have my family, even if it has been reduced. And I have my health, my home, my friends. I have all my children home again and we are stronger than before. I'll miss my parents this season as I do every day. But I am still thankful for the blessings God has given me in all the people still here.