My un-thankful thanksgiving. It sounds beyond awful I know. Thanksgiving used to be my all time favorite holiday. I longed all year for it. I relished the crisp air outdoors and the warmth inside as the turkey baked in the oven and the stovetop was cluttered with Harvey and potatoes splattering over. The mess excited me. I loved cleaning up afterwards, listening to the stories family and friends shared in the background. The laughter, the full bellies the brave chatter or emerging for black friday. I used to write everyone a note telling them why i was thankful for them and would hand them out at dinner. Then after thanksgiving I would hurry home sleep and rise early to decorate my entire hose in a Christmas winter wonderland. I loved decorating. I waited all year for it. I often times would beg to set up early and was always turned down saying of you do it will become less special to you. So I waited and waited all year for the exciting day after Christmas when I would pull all my boxes from the stage and set the tree, lights and garland everywhere! It smelled, looked and felt like Christmas. this year no of it mattered at all.
When I was younger I used to be able to take each day as a blessing, a gift. No matter what the previous day had dealt me I tried to live the next day new, fresh, unbiased. I tried to be better, more grateful and more helpful. I truly enjoyed helping others, playing with family and taking everyone in. This year is different. While a small part of me still enjoys being with my family and friends a large part of me is silently suffering. I am dying slowly and quietly inside. My heart and stomach are so pained it hurts to do anything. I try to submerge myself in conversation, laughter and meal time but I am suffering badly the entire time. I try to hide the pain and end up in a daze, most often nodding or agreeing with statements but not listening. It's so hard to be present when the present aches so badly. It's hard to talk about my pain, my helplessness my deep depression and sadness from within. I think it frightens people and it's so uncomfortable. Most people don't talk about how they really feel and so when we do it's super awkward. Also I'm sure it's easier to believe the lie that we are ok than to swallow the bitter reality that we are not. This is not something I can get on top of, get around or even go through easily. It's a long journey I am slowly walking through.
Today my stomach is completely sour. It churns and squeezes with pain. I've run to the bathroom throwing up the lid and heaving into the toilet hoping to eliminate whatever is ailing me but have been unsuccessful. It feels like fire burning me from within. I sat sobbing on the couch with Harvey, him curled in a ball, my head on his back, then his chest. I sob and cry out, small whimpers escape my throat and he is mortified watching me. His warm tongue wipes the spot between my eyes and the bridge of my nose where the tears catch. I am thankful for him and plead for him to help me. I sob to him telling him how much I love him and how much Grace and Wyatt would have adored him. How wonderful he would have been with them. I blow my nose for the hundredth time and sob my way upstairs where I enter your room. Still set up for you. It's a nice room, so much sunlight pours through the window. I gather your soft blankets, your names embroidered on them and I wrap myself into our rocking chair. The sobs and whimpers continue to escape my body as I rock back and forth , back and forth in an effort to soothe my shaking body. As I rock the hot tears spill from my face onto the chair, I hug your blankets tighter and I think one day I will cry less, one day my tears will run out, one day it might not hurt as bad. One day I will be with you again.
I can't help to think that you should have been here with us today. Yesterday enjoying the family that surrounded me, the smells, the noise. You should have been passed from one person to the next, your head and sweet hands smothered with kisses. You should have been here. How can I be thankful after the most important thing has been ripped away from me. How can I sit here watching life revolve around me when my own has completely shattered into a million pieces. How can I watch others swaddle their newborns while I look into an empty room, a box filled with ashes, pictures. My heart is filled with sorrow.
I wish you were both here in my arms with us. We miss you so much!
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