Merry Christmas, Mom! I hope wherever you are, the carols are the most beautiful you’ve ever heard.
I’m ok. I’m sad of course, but I’m ok. Somehow, I mustered up some Christmas spirit by December 23rd. I did a lot of last minute shopping to ensure that Ramsey had a plethora of gifts to open. We almost didn’t put up a tree, but when I remembered that we have a Christmas tree up in our closet year-round, it seemed silly not to bring it down for the holiday. I even managed to get the flag out before it was too late. Your reindeer stayed sequestered in the attic again. I’m just not ready for full celebration mode.
Jennifer is going to come visit on the 30th. Not sure who else is coming, but I’m going to strive to have a somewhat tidy house when they come. I’ll admit that I haven’t finished all my shopping for everyone, but I’ll get there.
I’m looking forward to 2023. I’m viewing it with a sense of hope. I have a couple of resolutions that I really think will help me emotionally. And I do feel that next year has got to be better than this year. I got this meme from a friend the other day. He hit the nail directly on the head.
I’m not sure I went through all 5 stages of grief, but I know the depression stage is what hit me hardest this year. I’m trying to come out the other side of that. I want to get to acceptance so that I can remember the beauty of your life without having to feel the pain of your loss. I know it will always hurt, that’s what love does. But I need to think of you with a smile as often as I can. I need to remember the stories that make me laugh (chewy OJ, shovel bounce, cut-throat Easter egg hunts, jigsaw puzzle laser sounds…) without feeling a tear on my face. One day, maybe I’ll write them all out so that time doesn’t erase the magic that made them memorable.
I love you, Mom. I’m sending you all my hugs (can you share with Dad and John?). I’ll be back in touch soon to share my New Year’s resolutions with you. Until then, I think of you often and love you always.
Hey, Mom! How are you? 