Blue Christmas

Well, the last bow is on and the presents are under the tree, well as much as they can be since it is a small tabletop tree.  I didn't want one, but Ava Beth insisted. I caved. There is no angel on top this year, there never will be again.

I kind of over did the present thing. But does anyone deserve more presents than them, this year? Jessika always took care of presents, I don't know how their dad's will do. So, I went overboard. Oh well, at least I had that brief moment of satisfaction when I found them the perfect gift.

The sticky buns are rising, the rest of the food prepped. The dogs have finally crashed and DH is out cold. Tomorrow we are having our Christmas with the grand kids. My how I miss them. Before she got sick, Jessika had them here several times a week. I haven't seen them since Thanksgiving. I almost feel like I lost them when I lost her. They are separated, the two little ones living with their paternal grandparents and the older three with their dad. This is the second time those older ones have been uprooted, the first being when their parents divorced.  Now this. I can only imagine how they must feel without their Mom, their constant, their touchstone.

I knew the holidays would be painful, this was Jess's time of the year. A time when we did our baking and crafts, and laughed and loved. But I wasn't prepared for it to hurt this much. The pain is as intense as my first week without her.

I am slammed with memories that I am too raw to deal with. I finally got down my winter clothes, in one of the boxes was a small wooden "trunk" that belonged to my grandmother. I have no idea how or why it was in with my clothes. I opened it. I wish I hadn't, the memories rose, specters of the past. Someday I will treasure them, but it is too soon. The first thing I saw was a lock of Jessika's hair from her first hair cut. Down a few more layers was a 5 year olds letter to the tooth fairy. A little deeper was an 8 year olds letter to Santa. Deeper still was the kicker. A letter a teenage Jessika had written to us, thanking us for being her parents, and telling us how much she loved us. The faucets were turned on and I haven't shut them off since.

I didn't do anything traditional this year. I thought, hoped, by doing something really different, and not on Christmas I could get through it, I was wrong.

Since it is a blue Christmas, I used blue, silver and white as my colors on the tree. I didn't do any knick knacks, no snowmen, no holiday movies, no carols. My lone exception was candy jars filled with blue silver and white candies setting in the middle of greens on my coffee table, and battery candles in between. The candles went out Tuesday nite. I didn't have any batteries so I left them. Thursday I cried, I cried a lot, and yelled, a lot. I wanted my daughter, I need my daughter. I left the room for a bit, when I came back in all the candles were glowing again. I will leave it at that and let you make your own assumptions, I have.

Then this morning, I logged into our MyFamily site to get a couple of recipes that I have stored there. I haven't been on there for a long time. I didn't realize the first images I would see would be my Jessika. Again, a treasure, but one I am not ready to deal with.

My goal is to get through tomorrow for the kids. Then I can break down again.  Bill and I are leaving Tuesday for 10 days. A friend will stay at the house to keep an eye on it and the cat. We chose to go to Las Vegas. Can you think of anyplace that would be less Christmassy? We have never been there with her so there won't be added memories. We hope that will help us get through the bulk of the season.

I am going to talk to the kids dads tomorrow to see if we can work out a regular schedule to see the kids. Who is going to teach them what their mother would have, if not the person who taught her? Who will keep their Mother alive for them? They are so young. At 2, Rylan will probably not remember his mother, except what we tell him. Poor Ava Beth, to graduate, go to proms, get married, all without her mother. It is too much. I can't conceive of the situations that will arise without their Mother to turn too.

Who will help me when I am old? She was going to. Now I have no one. I am never going to be called Mother, Mom, again. I know it is selfish of me to even think that way when the kids are going on without being able to call anyone mom. I can't help it. I hurt. I want my daughter. I am really having trouble accepting this. I wake and think it was all a nightmare. Then realize it was real, and the pain washes over me again.

Please, hold your children. Tell them you love them. Make lots of memories, take lots of pictures, and pray, pray hard, that you will never have to rely solely on them and not the warm loving arms of your child, no matter their age.

Have a Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you do choose to celebrate.