Let’s get right to the point…
I hate the Fall holiday season. I hate Thanksgiving, I hate Christmas (gasp yeah I know…but I so totally do). I can hear what you’re saying…”Oh no you don’t hate the holiday, you hate the stress of all the cooking. You hate the chaos of shopping, you hate…” NO I FREAKING HATE Thanksgiving and Christmas.
My oldest child is 18…in her entire lifetime I can remember two Christmases that I was excited about. I can’t remember a Thanksgiving that I looked forward to. No, not a single one. I try every year to fake it and sometimes I’m way better at it than others. This year I sucked royally at faking it.
I spent the majority of Thanksgiving Eve in tears and held more back Thanksgiving Day…till it came time to say goodbye to my fiancé and then I just kinda lost it. OK OK…no I TOTALLY lost it. I cried and cried and cried.
The worst part is…there was nothing genuinely terrible about the holiday this year. In fact, I honestly don’t remember anything terrible ever happening to me at this time of year to make me hate this time of the year as badly as I do.
This year was so incredibly different from previous ones. First, all 4 of my kids were together for the first time in 6 years…I love this picture:
Something else that’s different is I also got to spend this day with the love of my life. Additionally my baby sister and miracle-baby nephew (though at 7 he’s not really a baby anymore) hosted. The day should have been perfect. What should be and what is though isn’t always the same.
After careful consideration, I have decided that something awful must have happened to me when I was little. Something so horrible it’s buried deep in my psyche and refusing to show itself in a way that would allow me to process through it and heal from it. Instead it presents as this horrible feeling of despair and dread and fear and heartache and extreme sorrow.
If humans could do it, I’d totally choose to hibernate on November 24th and not come out till January sometime. I despise the Fall holiday season that much.
I can’t help but wonder if not remembering what happened causes so much angst, how horrendous must this “thing” have been. Maybe I don’t really want to know or remember…
Hopefully this will be the last year that I am caught up in all off of this angst. Despite this dread that looms over me every year, I do know there are still things to be thankful for. I am grateful that all of my children and I were together, I’m grateful I got to share the day with my man and my sister and my nephew. I’m thankful for all the tender mercies the Lord continues to offer, despite how I struggle at this time of year.
This morning, a neighbor handed me this…
I am thankful…
for the taxes I pay because it means that I am employed
for the mess to clean after a party because it means that I have been surrounded by friends
for the clothes that fit a little to snug because it means I have enough to eat
for my shadow that watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine
for a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home
for all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have freedom of speech
for the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and have the luxury of transportation
for my huge heating bill because it means I am warm
for the lady behind me in church that sings off-key because it means I can hear
for the pile of laundry and ironing because it means I have clothes to wear
for weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because I have been capable of working hard
for the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I am alive
I think this about sums it up…despite the dread that looms over me, I still have a lot to be thankful for. Hopefully the new memories I’m making will soon replace the repressed bad memories and I can move from hating this time of year to
loving enjoying tolerating it at least.