I’m a person who loves routine, and deviations from that stated routine invariably cause distress. I’ve been writing glowing editorials for the newspaper on the closeness of family and the true meaning of Thanksgiving, etc, but it isn’t what I believe in my heart. For me, holidays bring added worries, and I’m not talking about all the gifting, gathering, cooking, decorating, and cleaning.
I’m not a bah humbug, don’t give me presents kind of gal, in fact I love presents, its just surprises I don’t like. We have had a high number of family deaths while on holiday or vacation. My brother-in-law died during a summer vacation. My father had a heart attack just after Christmas. My father-in-law died of cancer a week before Christmas. Right now I have a dear cousin struggling for breath in Hospice. And there are others, if I could only bring them to mind.
So I’m always glad to put Christmas behind me. I love the blessed stillness of late Christmas Eve, that Silent Night feeling when all is truly calm. For me, that’s the feeling that I made it through another year. I enjoy that lovely feeling for as long as I can hold onto it.
Then I steel myself for the next round of holidays.
Coming soon: House of Lies