The holidays are upon us, and the last thing I want to do is be a part of any of it. At least, not like this. If I had children at home or grandchildren of my own – which, sorry, I’m too young for grandchildren!! – maybe it would be different. Maybe I’d find a way to get into the spirit of family and food and stories and football and turkeys and pumpkin pies and decorations and shopping and all the fun, exciting and wonderful experiences I’ve had…this time of year…pretty much my entire life.
But I don’t care. About any of it. In fact, the holidays are torture now.
Turkeys are supposed to be deep fried, and Eric is not here anymore to do that task. Turkeys are supposed to be carved by Eric and his father…both pushing each other out of the way to take the task over from one another. But Eric is not here and his parents have moved away. Turkeys are supposed to be sitting on the kitchen counter with the other family members and kids picking at the big fried bird, piece by piece…with little wiener dogs barking at Grandpa to feed them another hunk. Turkeys are supposed to be shared and oooed and ahhhhed over, serving as the centerpiece of conversation at the large dinner table in my dining room and in my house
But none of this exists anymore for me.
Instead, turkeys are other peoples’ turkeys on other peoples’ china on other peoples’ tables in other peoples’ houses with other peoples’ dogs and other peoples’ traditions. The holidays were my own once, but now they are other peoples’ holidays, and I feel like an unsettled outsider invited in to share what they have. That isn’t a bad thing; after all, that’s what Thanksgiving is all about…but it’s something that I’m having a difficult time wanting or accepting.
So, for now, I’d rather sit them out.
I know I’m fortunate because my memories of the holidays as a child are happy ones, and my memories as a mom with my husband and girls are, hands down, some of the best, fun and wonderful memories we made as a family. And I’m thankful to have had every damn one of them. But as I enter my third holiday season without Eric, and now both my girls are off and on their own…doing their own thing…living their own lives…as they should be…I just feel empty.
Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years’…each day is just another day without Eric here. It’s just another day without my family, the very one I was a part of creating, the only one that has ever been mine. It’s any Monday or Thursday, and I could just as easily go to work or walk the dogs at the park or go to the gym and run or do the tiny, mundane tasks of daily life.
Which, I suppose, is exactly what I will do so I can get through it yet again.
leohaskell@gmail.com
No the holidays will never be the same; and no we can’t have those sweet holidays back. However, at some point you make a decision to create new holiday traditions. Feeding the homeless this week is one of those traditions for me. Seeking out single people that have nowhere to go and creating a Thanksgiving together or traveling to a new destination have also been choices I have made some years.
I am now so aware at how many people are alone at the holidays. I try to go outside my comfort zone to reach out in as many ways as I can. When my husband was alive, we did include Marines that were alone in the barracks, but now I am looking everywhere I go and seeing those that are alone.
Best to all.
My door is open…..I know you probably don’t wanna come in or even have the offer…..but it is. Also, if you want to just get away the beach house is also open for you. I promise to not bother you!
Love and Hugs.
Marcie
I feel the same way holidays are just another day. This is my second thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years without my husband of 37 years. The second year isn’t going to be any easier, people tell me this is my new normal I don’t want new normal I want the old one back.