Ghosts of Christmas past...

My birthday is this month. As with most of this holiday season (I consider my birthday to be the start to the holidays, hehe), I suspect it’s going to be somewhat complicated for me. See, I love the holidays, which I recognize sounds very American of me, but it’s true. I always have, ever since I was a small child, because my grandma loved them, and then so did my mom. It was a time of year when everything felt a little bit kinder and cozier, with all the soft light and decorations. Being poor, it was never about presents for me, because while my friends would get mountains of toys and things, I would usually get a book and a bit of candy in my stocking. I was happy, though, because I also got family, when everyone in my extended family would go to my great aunts’ house for lunch.

Over time, after my grandma passed and my mom got married, I lost the family part for awhile, until I made my own family from good friends who often took me in after those first couple of years where my mom forgot me (I’ve made peace with that, long ago, but it hurt a bit then). But the holidays slowly became something a little darker, and a little harder, as, one by one, I began to lose the people who made up my world. This year will be the first without my mom, at all, and adding her to the long list of ghosts of Christmas past makes the weight of it more daunting. 

With less than two weeks before my birthday, which falls on the two month anniversary of her death this year, I’m working to find the holiday spirit. I may get to spend a large part of the time with you, which would be wonderful, and that will certainly help, but I’ll miss her, as I miss all of them around this time of year. But if I can hold you, and be held, I think that may well be the best gifts I could possibly get. Also, the trip to Canada won’t hurt, either, hehe. I love you, my sweet girl. Next Christmas is going to be the absolute best one ever.