Bone In The Throat

It’s supposed to be a beautiful sunny day.

I don’t know yet because the sun hasn’t topped the mountain to the east yet. I’m guessing that it will be pretty.

I was planning on sleeping late, but forgot to turn off the alarm. Maybe I’ll go back to bed.

Jesse hasn’t seemed interested in leaving his spot so the bed will still be warm. The question is, can get him to move enough that I can get back under the covers? It may require bribery!

Yes, his head is on my pillow!

I may just get in on the other side of the bed. If I’m quick enough, he won’t have time to move where I’m trying to lay down.

Oh, did I not mention it? He likes to play “King of the bed”. He thinks it’s funny as hell, I on the other hand don’t when I’m freezing my naked butt off trying to get back under the covers.

I can hope against hope that he’ll give me a Christmas present of letting me back in the bed before anything important freezes solid and falls off.

In any case, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas Day.

Christmas Eve!

Seems like just last year we had one of these…

My year has staggered by. Some months and weeks have flown by, others dragged by like a slow scrape on your knee.

Remember those? You fell off your bicycle just slow enough that you knew you were going to scrape your knees and feel every rock or sharp bit of asphalt cutting into you until you came to a bloody stop. Somehow after you stopped the pain increased 10X. So your child mind was faced with the horns of a dilemma, you weren’t sure you wanted to stop, because the scraping wasn’t as painful as stopping.

Here we are again. Almost finished with another spin around the sun. I know it’s supposed to be a happy time. I’m not unhappy. I’m having a bit of a time holding onto the “Joy of the Season”.

It’s possible that it’s my age, the commercialization, that it’s the first Christmas without Jerry, that I’m just exhausted, or that I’ve paid a little too much attention to politics this last year. Any or all of the above may have dampened my holiday spirit. 

Face it, ain’t shit we can do about most of the things going on, so why focus on it?

That’s my major… perhaps my only resolution. I’m going to ignore as much as possible, and what I can’t ignore I’m going to try very hard to not get pissed about it.

One or more of my friends will probably be struggling with the same resolution. Maybe we’ll have to start a support group like AA.

Should we call it News Anonymous? Could work… as long as there’s bourbon.

The only things I want for Christmas are a little more strength and patience. Those gifts don’t have to be purchased or wrapped. They come from the big guy upstairs, and I’m hoping that I’ll wake to those gifts in my heart tomorrow morning.

My plan is to have a “Normal” Christmas Eve.

In years past, Jerry & I would make a light dinner, then we’d pour a glass of wine for him, bourbon for me, make popcorn or other snacks, and sit on the couch together watching Classic old Christmas themed movies.

The Bishops Wife springs to mind. A Christmas Story, National Lampoons’ Christmas Vacation, Donovans Reef, Operation Petticoat, Die Hard (sorry Mr. Willis.)

We’d just pick one at random and enjoy being together.

In recent years, neither of us wanted to be out on Christmas or New Years Eve.

If for some reason, we were out, I was the one doing the driving. That was okay with me. Jerry could imbibe and not worry about falling asleep on the ride home. He used the benefit of marrying a night owl only once or twice a year. It was always a pleasure to see him soundly sleeping leaned against the car window. Without saying it, he told me he felt safe and protected. I took pride in his feeling secure.

While I thank everyone for their kind invitations. This year I feel like I need to be here in the home we built and shared. I feel like I want to have that light meal, some popcorn, a bourbon, and watch a movie.

I need to close the chapter on our lives together. I need to do it with intention and purpose.

I set up a little tree in a call-back to his gift of a little tree in a bucket our first Christmas. The tin foil star from that first tree is proudly on top of this tree. There’s a symmetry that is comfortable and right.

Call it facing reality head on and that’s healthy.

I’m happy and sad at the same time.

I miss him terribly, that makes me sad.

Yesterday, I was playing music and found myself crying several times, it was like waves crashing on me. After each wave, I felt a bit better.  

I accidentally found the original, (and unlabeled,) tracks of a Christmas CD we’d put together years ago. Hearing him playing the harp really wrecked me, but again, I felt better afterwards.

I’m happy mostly for the season, and that I have several really supportive friends, and have had the time to work through the loss on my schedule, unhurried. I’ve been very fortunate.

Perhaps on some level I’ve received a gift of distance and understanding. 

From the moment he died, I’ve always known I had to carve a future. An early Christmas gift I’ve received is that now for the first time, I’m beginning to see a future having brightness and light. I’ll still miss him, I’m sure of that, but I’m starting to believe I’ll be okay.

That’s the best gift of all.

Have a Merry Christmas everyone.

Love

D.