Done. Moving Right Along.

I’d say we could both use a Christmas do-over, but I’d rather just keep moving forward now that it’s done. That is to say my Christmas wasn’t very good either. Once I cried I couldn’t stop. For very long anyway. I had my moment on Christmas Eve then pulled it together. I left early (because it was getting harder with each moment to keep it together) and as soon as I got in the car it was water works. I almost got in an accident because I couldn’t see straight. I got home and cried some more.

Then Christmas morning, I started all over again. I’d stop, then J called and I cried all over. When we hung up I thought I was done. Until my cousin L, one of D’s sisters, called from California and we cried together for an hour. I was close to calling in a migraine and staying home, but I knew I needed to be with my family—despite the fact that there wouldn’t be much conversation about it. D’s death, her absence would be the elephant in the room.

I took an hour after my shower to lie down with cucumber slices and a wash cloth full of ice cubes on my eyes, but I still looked like crap. And I didn’t make it through the day without crying again. But I managed to have fun. Vodka helped.

All the while W was in the hospital.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

Sounds like you’ve found a way to bounce back/refocus after your Christmas with your parents’ video. I think it’s awesome that you have something like that. (And don’t worry; I know what you meant about being tired of being a mom.) Use it as a tool.

I’m bouncing back, slowly but surely, too. Trying to focus on positive energy and affect change. I’m trying to get in balance again, do more visualization and some meditation. I even started reading a new (for me), new age spirituality book. It seems to be helping.

And I’ m back to counting WW points, too, but not where I should be, not where I was back in October or November. That too, will come.

So praise to us both for trying to feel better this year, for finding solace in each other, and making our way back to the page.

Love,
Barb