I lost my shit

It's been a long, long weekend. I lost my shit. I did.

On Saturday afternoon I went downstairs to collect all the decorations for our tree. I put the tree and lights up last weekend, but ran out of time to decorate. I keep the decorations in a third bedroom closet that we don't use on a regular basis. I opened the closet doors, which have been closed for almost a year, and nearly fainted with the adour. It wasn't obnoxious, but as a result I felt in an odd stimulation which would result in tears. I should mention, I have all my mother's memorabilia stored there. I could smell my mother. It hit me hard. I don't why it happened this year in particular, because her stuff has always been in that closet. I knew I was feeling a little fragile about this Christmas, and fussing about finding time to get everything done, but I never ever expected my reaction. It was like, I finally got it. She was gone. Christmas would be different. I know I always go into a state of denial when the tough times roll around, and put on my "everything is fine face."

Normally I am quite content to stay in that place, but on Saturday, I had to face it. I spent most of the afternoon in tears, trying to decorate my Christmas tree. I even got poor Penny upset, and she had to come over to the Christmas tree where I was sitting and lick off a few tears. She knew I was upset, and I had to smile at her between my melt downs.

I think I got it now. I have to put all that stuff away..or give it away. It's not helping me move on. It's been 7 years...for God's sake, and I don't usually dwell on it..why now?

Gord and I talked last night, and I tried to explain to him how I felt. His family always comes here for Christmas and I love it, but I don't see much of mine. It seems that once my parents were gone, my brother has forgot about me. I try to stay in touch, but not with much luck. If I don't call, nothing happens.

So, this morning when I woke up, I lay there going over Saturdays melt down, and decided to change of few things. I have come to realize there is no perfect Christmas, as much as my mother wanted one. She always tried to cover up the imperfections for me and my brother. I know my dad always got drunk on Christmas eve with his buddies in the beer parlour, while we waiting for him to come home. She went to great lengths to turn that around, and filled our heads with promises of Santa's big treats the next morning. My dad was not big drinker, but in those days, the men did the men stuff, especially at Christmas and had their party at the "shop" etc. that night. I always bragged to my friends and cousins, that my mom and dad never ever had a fight in there life!...I am sure I was wrong, because she made sure it was kept from our ears. I have to see that they weren't perfect. That is hard.

I have to step back and realize they were people just like Gord and I, who have our differences and our fights, and they were not gods.

So, I have to get that "perfect" Christmas out of my head.

Just a Christmas memory...........

I will never forget ... one day when we were just little rugrats, dad had the ladder propped up to the attic of the house. We asked him why it was there. He said so Santa could get into the attic, and put the presents down our Chimney with care...ummmm ..it led to our oil furnace...what was my first clue? Anyway, the next day there was a whole bunch of wood shavings from the attic in the snow. Mom came out and told us Santa had been there the day before and left us a early present!!! "yay" for us... And in the snow we found two huge beautiful "It was the Night Before Christmas" books. They were embossed in velvet and gold. I don't think I have ever "not" believed in Santa since then.

After taking sometime to refect over my melt down, I had to step back and accept those around me for who they are. I am far from perfect, and that is what I have always thought I should be, to myself and those around me. I have to realize that my loved ones mean well, and if they don't carry through my expectations, I have to give them a break and examine my own motives.

After all Christmas time is a time to celebrate family. I will try. No more tears.


Pretty heavy stuff huh?? He ain't heavy...he's my brother!!