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Caring Less That It’s Christmas


"What makes night within us may leave stars." ~Victor Hugo~
“What makes night within us may leave stars.”
~Victor Hugo~

Perhaps it’s because we’re into the longest hours of darkness as we near the solstice, or maybe it’s having felt deeply two personal losses in less than a week.   It could even be the wee little chink in my girl-armor sustained by the careless blow of, ‘The Guy’. Perhaps it’s just bearing the full load of life with no one to lean on once in a while.

Whatever it is, it has me way beyond needing bourbon or bubbly. I need my jammies and a hot cup of tea. Heck, throw in my granny’s quilt and my slippers while you’re at it will ya? And while you’re up, could you please flush my phone down the toilet? Yes? Thank-you.

I tend to enjoy everything about Christmas, even the debut of Hallmark collectibles in July. Yes, I’m sappy like that. I’m a tough old gal, but I do actually have feelings.

I’m a glass-half-full-kind-of person, but not today. Nope. I know what it’s like to have a death in the family at Christmas. I know loss. We’ve snuggled long and hard, and I totally get someone saying, “Oh, you should be thankful because…”, and to them I say, “Really? That’s all you’ve got in your arsenal of empathy. Please shut up.”

What I’m trying to tell you is that this year, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas.

I’ve had some lovely visits, and am so grateful for my friends, but I’m depressed as hell. Depressed as in, if I didn’t have a kid to look after, I’d stay in bed until my skin became one with the sheets, and they-had-to-come-in-with-hazmat-suits-depressed. Knowing there are chocolate caramel biscotti hidden in the kitchen cupboard might save me, but it’d be a close call.

So right now, I could really care less that it’s Christmas. I don’t even want to bake, and the Christmas cards I usually make out for everyone I see on a daily basis? Yah, not gonna happen. Making sure all of the treats and goodies are on a pretty Christmas day table – not exactly fluffing my skirt.

I suppose that darkness goes along with the anticipation of mystery, waiting and hope, but I’m not feeling it. It being the hope part. Mystery and waiting isn’t much fun without the sizzling, fireworks of hope.

Maybe before the candlelight service on Christmas Eve (which is my favourite part of the holiday), I’ll feel some of that Christmas magic and hope. So, my darlings, I’m going to take some of my own advice, and withdraw from the world a bit, and I’m going to remind you that it’s ok to do that too.

Do what you must and let everything unfold without your energy. One thing that life has taught me is that it will unfold all by it’s wonderful, mysterious, self.

4 thoughts on “Caring Less That It’s Christmas

  1. It’s hard to know when to “fake it till you make it” or when to seek shelter to regroup. Good luck, I’m sure your instincts will lead you best.

  2. May you find your Christmas groove while wrapped in your favourite blankie. May the new year be kind to you. What is it about hope springing eternal? May you find that source again.
    In the meantime, Merry Christmas from a couple of like-minded tough gals.

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