Christmas season is upon us...and here comes the heaviness of the holidays. Out of the all the end of year celebrations, Christmas has been the hardest for me since Mom's passing. My favorite memories of celebrations back home usually was of Christmas. Mom always tried her best to make it special for us. At one point, we had a Christmas tree, Christmas gifts, family time and always, always great food. There was love and home was safe.
These last 2 (soon to be 3) Christmases without mom have been hard. In 2021, it was just shock. Last year, I was so angry with everything the number of fucks I gave was in the negatives. It was spent with some stranger in my bed. Hmmm make that two strangers (lol). This year, I am moving (bought a house, whoohoo!) for the final time (for a while, I pray) and I am going through things I will pack or throw away. I encountered the outfit I wore to my mom's funeral and had to stop. I don't know if I should keep the dress or donate it. And that broke me. It's another Christmas without her. And it feels like a little ( A LOT) of less love in my life. The reality is that the love I want is available...just not in the way I want it. I want mom to be here in the flesh, holding me. But alas.
Grief remains a bitch.
Merry fucking Christmas!
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