Our turn

Thanksgiving.
Christmas.
New Years.
The holidays . . . they’re back.

Thanksgiving had its rocky moments, but all in all – it was a good holiday spent with family. And the family that I have inherited through my other half is truly a comforting family to have and to be with on the holidays.

Christmas is fast approaching and there is so much to be done. But what I’m most happy about is that my other half and I will be starting a first that will hopefully turn into a tradition for our family. His parents and grandmother will be sharing Christmas Day with us in our home. We are in the final “oh sh*t this has to be done” stage to have our home prepared and ready for our first hosted Christmas. Hopefully as each Christmas passes there will less of this panicked feeling in making sure our home is ready for the holidays, Christmas especially.

When we last saw my aunt, we were talking about holiday traditions. In my extended family, all the kids/cousins go to my aunt’s house for Thanksgiving and then there is the traditional kick the kids out of the house movie after dinner. Though I haven’t spent Thanksgiving with my extended family in a few years, I hear the movie tradition is still alive. My aunt explained that Thanksgiving is the only holiday in which she requires all of her kids to be home, and by extension extended family tries to be there as well. As this is how we all spent Thanksgiving when we were younger. Together. One big happy family. So, we told her that we were hoping to start a tradition of my other half’s parents, and hopefully his sister’s family (though she is married with her own set of in laws, etc.) some day, being in our home for Christmas Day. My aunt smiled and said that we, as the younger generation, should be taking the responsibility of holidays as well as starting our own traditions for when we have children. Or at least to keep the younger generation together. And I know this is definitely something I know my mother would want to see happen in my own family.

So, now, as matriarch of my own family, the Christmas decorations are starting to be put up so there are signs of Christmas in our home. Our front door is gift-wrapped and covered with bows, our windows have Christmas decorations on them. Soon, Christmas cards will be purchased, filled in and mailed and presents will be purchased and hidden. As I approach this Christmas with some different energy and perspective, there still remains a piece of me that is melancholy and disconnected. But seeing family, no matter whose family, often helps to fill the void. And hopefully one day, the void will no longer be present because I will have come full circle in knowing that no matter the day, the holiday, I am blessed everyday with a strong-willed mother as my guardian angel. And really, that is the best gift. Ever.

Gettin it right

Needless to say that Thanksgiving and Christmas 2000 weren’t joy-filled holidays. But, we made it through . . . somehow. And, the new year passed as did each day following. Life started to settle down and the days weren’t as difficult. I didn’t realize, though, that it was leading up to a calm before the storm. So, this is what happened . . . I was out with some friends on a regular Friday or Saturday night, I can’t remember which. It was April and probably one of the first times I agreed to go out with a group of people. I recall it was an ordinary night of shooting pool and hanging out. Nothing too out of the ordinary. The great thing about it is that I was having a good time. But the change took less than a split second. Suddenly I felt like the only person in a room full of people. My mood immediately sombered and all I knew was that I had to get out, I had to leave. The change was evident to everyone. And all of my friends tried to persuade me to stay, but I wasn’t having any of it. I had to leave. Immediately. I remember that when the mood changed, I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly was bothersome. I couldn’t figure what put me in such an immediate and rapid emotional spiral.

It was the day before Easter. Now, you may be asking yourself, what’s so special about Easter. Well, the answer is nothing. Absolutely nothing. EXCEPT for the fact that when I was younger, my mother and I would dye eggs. AND, until I graduated from college, each year, without fail, my mother gave me a Godiva bunny. It’s not like I was expecting a chocolate bunny this particular year. I hadn’t received one from my mother in at least five years. It was the memory of what was that sent me in a spiral. It was the memory and the idea that I’ll never be given another Godiva bunny on Easter by my mother. Ever.

See, when I went through some therapy and what not, no one told me that there would be random days or holidays that would unleash surges in grief and emotion. Easter of all holidays! But, it made sense. It didn’t matter that whatever I used to do on those holidays, for example, I didn’t do anymore. It was just the fact that I would never do them again with my mother that caused such turmoil. You see, I didn’t just stop there. I would continue the string of what won’t happen by stating she won’t be present to help me plan a wedding, she won’t be present when I have my first child . . . all these milestones in my life to come and she won’t be present. Physically present.

So, now, Thanksgiving and the 8th anniversary of my mother’s passing are fast approaching. And much as I’ve done since the first year of my mother’s passing, I mentally prepare myself. I’ve taken every approach that one can create and I haven’t been consistent as the years have passed, either. There are times when I hide, maybe I’ll allow one or two around me, maybe I’ll just want to be at my mother’s grave . . . I can never be sure the approach, I just know that I actively remind myself to be gentle with myself because of what’s approaching. While I am experiencing much of the same emotions and feelings as I usually do, there’s an added twist this year. There’s someone I want her to meet so much. There’s someone a part of my life now that I think she would truly have liked and welcomed into the family with open arms. It’s someone who, for the first time, I want to introduce to my mother. Alive or not, I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling about any man who’s been a part of my life. I feel that way now because I think she’d laugh and see that I got it right this time. And I know she waited and hoped that I would . . .