This experience is becoming kinda surreal. December 24 is my uncle’s birthday, so my father–his brother–decided to go up today (yesterday, now, but never mind that). My sister really wanted to go too, but my mother couldn’t–there are over a dozen dogs and cats to take care of–so I decided to stay with her so she wouldn’t have to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas alone. My uncle was down visiting immediately before he went into the hospital–I saw a lot of him, but my sister didn’t. For now, it had to work out two-and-two–we may or may not get a chance to rotate later.
Anyway, so I’m with Mom, and Dad and Sis head out. Some three and a half hours later my sister calls–they ran into an unforecast blizzard just past the half way point, and it was bad enough that they had to stop. (And with my Dad, that means it was pretty bad.) So they are spending the night at the Bates Motel in The Middle Of Nowhere, and trying to find something open so they could get some food.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the epileptic Brittany Spaniel overrode his medication and had two seizures in the living room, which caused him to pee all over the carpet. And the Steelers won but didn’t make the playoffs anyway, and the high point of the evening was watching the movie Beanon NBC. And I’m thinking this just isn’t my concept of a traditional Christmas Eve.
If I never post again, it’s most likely because I forgot what I was doing and looked at the eclipse tomorrow, and therefore went blind. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.
From our many talks, you know I have little energy left to give. However, what I have I give to you to help you feel better, and to have a happy Christmas. And I will include you in my Merry Christmas Wishes today.
Well, I made it through the holiday with only a little bit of weepiness. Well, OK, a lot, but I managed to regain control before I had to actually leave my house.
Quite frankly, after reading some of the horrible things that have happened to people in the past week or so I’m angry with myself for even whining about my piddly little problems.
Hugs to all who gave them to me, and extra hugs to those whose holiday wasn’t the best. Y’all need them more than I do.
You can’t compare wounds, it doesn’t work. Your ouch is as ouch as it is, and so is mine, and so are the others.
My ouch is 1) not being pregnant anymore, when I was anticipating being ~5-6 months pregnant around the holidays (miscarried in August), and 2) coming up on the first ‘anniversary’ (is there a less festive word for that?) of my first miscarriage, last year on New Year’s Eve. I’d thought I was done dealing with both of them, but here they are again.
Pain like that cycles around, in layers, you peel them off until you are done. The worst layers come off over the first few years. I wasn’t weeping over the presents, but I was certainly bummed. Hopefully next year I’ll be less bummed. My son had a great time, so that helped, but it doesn’t fix everything (making me feel better is not his job, anyway).
So don’t be angry with yourself. You are as bummed as you are, and your greif can’t be compared to someone else’s, it doesn’t work like that. Glad you made it through, hope next year is better.
And you know the WORST part of feeling blue at this time of year? Everybody assume you are blue BECAUSE of the holidays! So how the hell does that explain the REST of the year? Easy–they don’t notice then. Nope, must be the holidays.
Y’all need them more than I do.