Dear friends and other interesting creatures,
Every year, I do my best to approach December as a passage of time, just another month. Some years I do better than others.
The anniversary of my father’s death is on the 14th, and my Oupa Mike on the 12th… Just before Christmas is Oupa Mike’s birthday.
I remember the eleven year old me running into the safety of Oupa Mike’s arms the night my father died.
I remember a 14 year old Kev holding me the morning Oupa Mike died. The unsure reassurance we offered each other.
December holds memories I don’t want to remember, but just can’t forget.
I have found Christmas more difficult since the kids moved out. At least when the kids were home, I had a reason to go through the motions. They all have their own lives. Own friends. New traditions and memories to make. I never want to guilt them into visiting.
It leaves me yearning for a yesterday when I would decorate the table, put gifts under the tree and we would pretend whatever I burnt, undercooked or completely stuffed up was the best thing ever. 🙂 I usually would redeem myself with pudding at least!
I know if we stay home it will be like any given Sunday. I want to feel something, go somewhere, make my heart dance…. but going out is double the price for Christmas, and having the kids all together is near impossible. Besides, wherever you go, you take yourself with you. 🙂
How do YOU hold a moonbeam in your hand and have yourself a merry little Christmas?
I wish you enough,
Posted from the galaxy of Samsung from the second cloud on your left.