Ten Holidays

So, another Christmas done. I'm not sorry. I was blessed to have Becca, Sarah, and Madilyn with me and my sister came by for Christmas dinner. It was such fun watching Madi get so excited over the tree and presents. Sarah, of course, is an old hand at all that stuff and getting her excited is a lot harder. Of course, she had fewer gifts this year but she did get things she asked for and so I think she was fine with it.

Becca brought Madi over on the 23rd to stay until the 26th and we decided we'd get Madi's presents wrapped and under the tree after she went to bed. Sarah's were already there when they arrived.

Madi kept asking me where her presents were and I told her they'd be here "tomorrow", on Christmas Eve. I felt so sad because it was evident that this 3 yr old could understand that something was off with the presents. But she trusts me so she didn't really make a fuss.

Christmas Eve, when I came down the hall to the living room, Madi met me grinning and grabbed my hand. "Mawmaw, Santa brought me and you presents last night! Come and see!" I thought it was sweet she thought I was included in those presents. I wasn't but it wasn't about me anyway. She was vibrating with excitement and the rest of the day we struggled to keep her from opening them all. We showed her her name on them and spelled it out for her. She knew exactly which ones were hers. We did let her open two hoping to appease her but by sunset, we were done and we opened them.

Both girls seemed to enjoy their gifts. Sarah got her ITunes gift cards and bluetooth headset and books. Madi got the kind of things 3 yr olds get: PlayDoh, colors and coloring books, and baby doll stuff.

The girls went home tonight. Sarah to spend a few days with her mom before going back to school. I am home alone. As I took the photo of the tree, I thought of all the Christmases I've had alone since Jerry died. There have been 10 Thanksgivings, 10 Christmases, 10 New Years, 10 anniversaries, 10 Valentine's Days. Oh, some family have been here for the day here and there but always, at the end of the celebration, I sit in front of the tree and try to find a glimmer of something that feels like a holiday. Eventually, I think of all the Christmases that may lie ahead and well, we'll leave it there.

I'm not wallowing in pity. I had my annual grief cry today and visited Jerry at the cemetery. I stayed a long time and just sat in the car and listened to a podcast as I watched the grave stones in the VA cemetery. Some had wreaths, some had flowers and some had nothing. There were a few new graves. Jerry needs new flowers and I promised to bring them this week.  I don't know if it matters, actually, but it does to me.

It made me sad to see the forgotten ones. Once I wondered who'd put flowers on my grave regularly and realized that I'm the end. There will be no one left here for that. Well, if that ain't the story of my life. Of course, there won't be anyone to put them on his either. That's bothers me.

Reaching The Pinnacle

Tuesday, second day of the work week when we look with relish at a past Monday and longing toward an approaching weekend. I basically envision myself climbing this steep cliff, hands bloodied, nails broken, gasping for breath and stretching to grasp the pinnacle of Wednesday and drag myself over the top so I can roll down the gentle, grassy slope to Friday evening.

I'm contemplating how on earth I can skip Wednesday and just get right to that slope.

Whatever. Week is not half done but I am.

I noticed the ticker at the bottom says I've topped 20,000. What? No trumpets? No parade? No ticker tape? No balloons, streamers, or cheers? Well.

Still, I like seeing stats. One thing I noticed right away was that my post from 2008 "A Little Bit of Gun History" had hits. This may seem random but if it does you live in a cave. I actually didn't remember writing it and had to do read it. I found it interesting but then questioned my sources. Really.

It has been a horrendous week for the people of Connecticut. And probably for most of the nation. I've avoided all news but a minimum number of articles reporting it. I'm not watching videos, tributes, and reading interviews with survivors. I have a six year old grand-daughter. I can't be dragged into the hell these parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and siblings are living. I simply can't. I see a shinning, smiling face with sparkling eyes of a bubbling little girl that holds my heart in her hands. I am totally incapable of dealing with this horror because her face is superimposed at every mention of this horrible disaster. The promise of Christmas has been obliterated for the survivors and there is no fixing it. I can only pray for them, pray for us all.

I still have no tree up. No decorations, either. I moved things around over the weekend with the help of my sons. We put the freezer in the garage. I am amazed at how much of a relief that was! I need it but it is such a nuisance to have in the house. I still have to clean out a closet for David. I'm planning on doing that this week. Unfortunately, the events of the weekend left me almost completely unable to move on Sunday. I pushed hard Thursday through Saturday to get this done, not stopping for much of anything. The price was pain that is not on any scale. I could barely walk at all Sunday and movement of any kind was misery. 

I bought stuff for our Christmas dinner. Thankfully, I have the weekend to prepare so it shouldn't be such a rush. I have to put up any decorations soon or I might as well not bother.

May I be perfectly honest? I really, really, really do not like holidays anymore. Truly. Even though I enjoy Sarah's excitement and pleasure I truly find them unbearably painful and tedious. I don't have anything to celebrate. I'm thankful for my family and my home and my job every day of the year but the memories I have of holidays are all bad and getting through November to February is just very hard.  

We don't even bother much with gifts anymore. I mean, I usually give the boys their gift in the form of money weeks before the holiday, at their request. They buy what they want. No one but my aunt generally buys me anything, maybe my sister who lives here, but other than that, I don't unwrap a thing. There is no one special for me to buy for but Sarah and I do that all the time anyway. So, in essence I'm putting myself through a grinder for nothing. It is very disheartening when all the things that sparkled and shone in your life is pretty much tarnished and rusted out and you no longer feel important to anyone. 

And with that, I'll stop. I have an hour to get my work done. It isn't enough. But tomorrow I will reach that pinnacle, Wednesday. I'll bandage the hands and drift down the hill... one hopes, to the weekend when I'll be off four days, work one and be off another four days. For that, I am truly thankful.

Thanksgiving & Ten Feet

Thanksgiving Day 2012 started for me at 8:30 a.m. I more or less crawled out of bed. Well, I was upright but I was able to shuffle, in tiny small sliding steps to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. That is what passes for walking for me for about an hour a day. Gradually, I will be able to pick up my feet and actually move my legs forward from my hips,  hopefully without pain. Normal graceful steps don't arrive until around 10 a.m. every morning. I might or might not be able to put on shoes with a heel. That depends on if my feet don't feel broken. 

Today is sunny and the Weather.Com icon says it is 42 degrees out there. I am supposed to have lunch with my fractured family around 11:30 today at a restaurant. Traditions are gone. There is no family get-together for us anymore. We don't watch parades, play games or sit around laughing at each others antics. We haven't for a long time. I no longer cook lots of food and goodies. We will eat and return to our respective abodes. Becca and Sarah will go to her family for the rest of today and tonight. 

The year 2009, the year Jerry died, was a horrible year and every year since it has only gotten mildly more tolerable. I know everyone thinks, "Good grief, woman, its four years. Get over it already." It is easy for you to say. Unfortunately, the very nature of death is unremitting separation. You can never get back what you lost. For the ignorant and shallow I remind you to remember what it felt like to lose your favorite cell phone and you had no way to replace it for a week? Well, multiply that by a million years and you might come close to feeling what normal people feel when they lose actual people they love. If that is a stretch, you're a sad mess. I digressed there but I know someone will read this that just won't get it. 

I've come to hate holidays in a way I never dreamed possible. I am forced to remember years of family reunions where a hundred people surrounded me in this great big bubble and we laughed, talked and ate and laughed and talked and ate. We all went home and felt connected and we could deal with the next year because we'd do this again. And then they all died and it stopped. 

So, I gathered my small family around me and the bubble shrank but we still got together. Sometimes we went to my siblings and we had a bigger bubble and everyone laughed, talked, and ate and felt connected. And then they all splintered off and moved away. I moved actually. So I gathered my small family and we had our own special holiday with each other. We laughed, watched the parades, I cooked and we ate. We played games while Jerry slept in front of the ball games. And then he died and the world shrank even smaller and I realized I couldn't get through the next year.

We've tried to maintain a holiday tradition. The year before he died we began to go out so I would not spend days preparing and cleaning up. I could have a day off. We continued after Jerry died. My sister misses the old way and every year wants to go back. She even volunteered this year to cook. I realized that I didn't really care anymore. 

This year, my son and his wife have divorced. Three people I love dearly are now splintered and drifting away. I look at Sarah and I realize she will never know those hundred people family reunions. She won't know the smaller ones where my siblings and our families get together and enjoy being a weekend of laughter and good food. She won't even have a small family joining hands to give thanks for a year of good things. Maybe years from now she will have a family and she can read some of my stories about what it was and maybe she can recapture it. I hope so because there is a lot of joy back there. There was much to be thankful for and to celebrate.

Why such a depressing blog? Because I want you to think about what you have surrounding you. I want you to look around that table and think. Turn off the cell phone and think about the faces you see surrounding you. Really look at them. Talk to them. Laugh at unfunny jokes today. Tomorrow it won't matter. 

I realized what was important seconds too late. Thanksgiving weekend 2009 was my epiphany. Every year, I remind myself and I re-post that moment for any who may pass this way.


".....I sit in a room that is approximately 9x10. The realization came to me tonight that all that matters of all that we do or say can be found within ten feet of you. And we usually stay close to what we love. But we don't notice it. It is silent and we don't really notice. Unless at some point it disappears. A void opens up.

I suppose the answer would be to look around and see what is within ten feet of where you sit right now. Reach out and grab it. Don't let go. If you do, it will begin to drift away, beyond your reach. Until you can't reach it anymore."

If you do nothing else today, look around and whisper prayers of thanksgiving for all that you have surrounding you. Give sincere and prolific thanks for the blessings of people who love you. Tell them you love them. Thank them for giving you their time, love, and countless hours of frustration, laughter, and joy...to you. Tomorrow, you can go back to your cell phones and endless shopping for a bargain. Today is the best bargain you'll ever have and once it is gone, you can't get it back.

VJ Day, Aug. 14, 1945

What a great memorial to the men and women of this era who bravely served America. Thank you for your dedication and desire to serve and protect our country and for the sacrifices you made to defend us. You serve as an inspiration to all those who desire freedom.





VJ Day, Honolulu Hawaii, August 14, 1945 from Richard Sullivan on Vimeo.