When the holiday spirit is elusive

There's a sadness in Bill's eyes

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas and I'm just not feeling it this year. There's just been too much sadness.

Lately, I find myself tearing up over nearly anything. Even though it's my second Christmas without my mom, this year seems to be even worse for me. It seems like I miss her with every single fiber of my being. Every.single.one. I go shopping and see something she would like. I cry. I hear a favorite song of hers. I cry. I unpack a Christmas decoration that was hers. I cry. That's just how it is for me right now.

Add to that the loss of my husband's brother in June. Tom loved Christmas... perhaps more than anyone else I've ever known. I guess it was sometime after his cancer diagnosis 18 years ago that he reconnected with his inner child. Once he discovered that joy, he was determined to bring it out in everyone else. Especially his, sometimes too serious, brothers. 

My brother-in-law, Tom. Christmas 2013

Every year in December, the four brothers and their wives gathered at his house for a lovely dinner with he and his wife, followed by a competitive game of Taboo. It was always men vs. women and the evening was full of laughter. Last year's gathering was the final one for all of us. Now there is one missing and we can't seem to bring ourselves to doing it again. Not this year, at least. 

So.much.sadness.

As Bill and I attempt to decorate this year, there is an air of heaviness surrounding us. The Christmas music plays, but our voices do not join in as they have in the past. It's not that the joy of Christmas is gone. It's just that our hearts are so heavy. So, we decorate a bit, we cry, we share memories, and we hug. A lot. 

If you're going through something similar this year, you have my condolences. This normally happy time can be brutally painful to those who have lost loved ones. I hold you in my heart, dear one.