It's that time of year again.
Christmas.
Bah humbug.
My Dad keeps telling me to get over it and move on with my life. Thanks, Dad. That really helps.
Seriously, though. Don't you think that I want to be okay? Don't you think that I want to wake up one day and not feel the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that always reminds me? (My Mom is dead.)
The other day I got the Christmas tree out and put it up. Yeah, it's that same fake tree that is probably riddled with lead and made in China. Mom told me years ago not to let the kids mess with it so they wouldn't get lead poisoning. I didn't take that too seriously. Clearly. But I don't let them chew on it either. (My Mom is dead, she's not fussing about it now.)
The girls were thrilled about the tree, they were ready to decorate it. So I milked that for all it was worth, telling them they had to clean up the play room before they could hang ornaments. One day and one clean room later, they were plucking ornaments from my hands faster than I could attach the hooks. It looked really nice, and Anna-Lee put the angel on top. She's that tall now. (Their GG is dead, now that's depressing.)
So now the tree is trimmed. We're ready for Christmas. If only I could find the Ho Ho Ho decorations Mom made for me. (Too bad your Mom is dead, you could've asked her if she knew where they are.)
So now I'm just hanging out, wrapping presents. Hiding presents. Checking my lists. The corners of these gifts need to look just so...Flashback to Sarah saying, "They're just going to tear the paper anyway. It doesn't have to be perfect," as I meticulously cut along the grid lines of the wrapping paper. This time I threw caution to the wind and now the gifts look like my kids wrapped them. Oh well.
There is much to do between now and Christmas. A lot of everyday stuff like dishes and laundry. As I fold clothes I think, oh wow, Mom bought this for Anna-lee/Addison way back in the day. Fold. Sort. Change to dishes. I put broken dishes in the garbage after putting all the others away. Bella broke a coffee cup yesterday. My dead Mom bought me that. Addison broke a bowl at breakfast. It was one of Mom's. But hey, I didn't even cry this time. That's some improvement, right?
Ugh. I know. It's exhausting. I think I'm just going to give up now. (My Mom is dead, who's going to cheer me up now?)
Okay. Enough of the sulking. Yeah, my Mom is dead. But she wasn't just my Mom. She was lots of things to lots of different people. And if you're one of them, I'm sorry for your loss as well. And she's not the only Mom that's passed, not the only person you or I are going to miss this holiday season. And I'm sorry for those losses as well.
I guess I just want to point out that if you're feeling sad today because of someone you've lost, you're not alone. And if you feel like there are people pushing you to get over your sadness just know this: there will come a day when you don't think about them and cry. There will be a day that you wake and go your whole day without mourning them. But there will always be a time that you can't help but cry. And that's okay. Because crying won't kill you. I'm living proof.
My Mom is dead. I'm trying to get over it. I really am.
