Tom Sonday

If I had a dollar for everyone who has said to me “these holidays will be the worst ever” — I could purchase alot of Christmas presents.

(Not that I would mind you. I’m not really in the mood for shopping. These are going to be the worst holidays ever.)

I know the people who tell me that shocking revelation mean well, but I had already thought of it, and call me ungrateful, but I don’t really need the reminder that parts of these holidays will likely suck big-time. I’m already falling apart every time I think of hanging the stockings by the chimney with care, because my “Mom” stocking will be lonely without the matching “Dad” one. While the matching “Dad” one I guess will stay in the box, that doesn’t seem right either.

I will probably leave all Christmas stockings closed up in the holiday box.

I’m thinking of closing myself in the box as well.

The bazillions of people who reminded me these would be the worst holidays ever — yep, you were right. Thanksgiving, although we are SO blessed, was hard. Tommy was in every other thought; he loved family gatherings and football games and fixing food and getting things ready for when the kids come home. Doing those preparatory things alone took more time than I realized … perhaps because I so often paused to reflect and-or get angry / sad / melancholy regarding the situation. In part because the grocery store is still a foreign land to me, and although I had to make three different trips to obtain everything (and yes I even had a list, my mind is still scattered these days), I still couldn’t find canned pumpkin until I broke down and asked that remedial question. (Turns out that canned pumpkin is in the BAKING aisle, although it is a vegetable which in my mind puts it in the fruit / veggie aisle. It isn’t like the canned green beans are in the baking aisle, although they’re frequently baked into the well-known (and loved) green bean casserole.)

But, all the preparatory angst was SO worth it. The kids were home, and while sadness and reflection were always around, flowing from a trickle at times to a raging river at others, we got through it. Stronger and more united as the new family unit that we are.

Yep, we got through the first of the predicted “worst holidays ever,” and we fared better than the turkey did anyway. Is it better to be occasionally consumed in grief, or entirely consumed with gravy? I’m going with the former.

Thanks friends and family and other unknown readers for being part of our many blessings.