4PM Wallow in SELF PITY

I used to love the holidays, I grew up looking forward to the only time a year where my family felt sort of 'normal', we would go to the fair, walk the streets and smile at the Christmas lights and dream of one day being able to feel that exact feeling year round.

My dad loved Christmas, his tree would be up and decorated at the start of November, before Thanksgiving which was my favorite holiday, food rules my heart and so a holiday where I could be a fat ass was convenient.

Once we established ourselves in NY, our family's tradition grew to be a dinner at dad's place, every year, at the start of November, our first get together of the season was to decorate, then to eat, then to gift, then to just be; I remember dad loved telling us Army stories as we laid on the floor waiting for the aunts to finish the tree, contemplating our toy selections for our lists.

The holiday season meant togetherness to me, it meant stability, it meant safety, it meant I could let my guard down for a while as I sipped on some hot chocolate.

I feel like a reverse Grinch, I was Cindy Lou Who; then my whole world stopped, the lights went off and the magic left my lungs; November 2019, the month of mystical events, my heart shattered on top of his lifeless body begging him, begging God, begging anyone listening for a miracle, unable to cope with the pain that was spreading inside me at such rapid pace, faces became motionless as I held on to his hand, as I prayed for him to tell me what to do next, as I cried as I saw the machine being disconnected, his last breath was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life, till this day.

The holiday season of 2019, became hospital stays, funeral arrangements, viewing services and burial day; I stood strong until the Army sergeants folded his American flag: that's when I knew part of me died with him.

The holiday season of 2020, in the mist of a pandemic, consumed with grief still and so far off balance, I felt like I was part of the casts playing my life, unable to feel, unable to smile at the decorations surrounding me, because though my home was decorated by my kids, a sense of lost lingered.

The holiday season of 2021, in the high of my professional achievements, I found myself smiling at happiness once more, I found my heart beginning to beat again, I found myself excited for a Christmas tree, I found myself wrapping gifts like I was an elf at Santa's shop, I was beginning to feel peace, settling for a part-time position in someone's arms, settling for attention that left an addiction behind, settling for something that was not mine.

November 2022, I finally understand that his memory will never be erased, his love can never be replaced and though the holidays will never be the same without him, I know that putting my tree up and decorating with my kids is what he would want me to do, I feel him smiling at me, I felt his blessing as I picked our new Christmas tree, I felt him dancing around me as I assembled it, I looked at his picture and knew that magic was once more brewing.

I miss my dad like crazy, on holidays and year round, this summer I was surrounded by dragon flies, this fall I am surrounded my strong trees leaving behind their greens; I understand that physical presence was a gift, and now spiritual presence is the core, the Christmas tree in Rockefeller center, the new year ball in Times Square, the cozy on my sofa, the warmth in my bed when I feel the loneliest.

It's sad that family tradition ended with his departure, but with every ending comes a new beginning, my heart will still cry as I look at my kids surrounding the Christmas tree, my soul will ache as I put up the picture frames at the center of the tree, photos that he chose that I fight myself to change every time I put them up; I am scared to change them, just like I was scared to wash the clothes I took from his closet, just like I slept in a dirty blanket for years until his smell faded, until my brother gave me dad's cologne, I remember when he gave it to me, I was shocked because though the blankets and the clothes were dirty and his smell was fading I held on to them for dear life, I washed everything and sprayed a tiny bit of cologne on; these days I only spray it on my wrist on days I feel I need him near.

I hate the holiday season, I am certain of that, but I push myself and I cry in between until I can take everything down and start pilling another layer of my emotional onion off; I am never going to lay down on his apartment floor hearing his voice story telling, but now I look forward to watching my kids drop the balls a thousand times before they find the hook, I brought shatterproof ornaments so we don't end up with only 10 good balls on the tree, this Christmas we will have 50 good balls.

XOXO

Lucy