The first sign that the holidays are going to be harder than I thought came today.
My sweet girl ruefully asked if we could get the fall boxes out of the attic. Already having missed Halloween, I agreed. Digging those boxes out had never my job, my "secret keeper" routinely did this task without even being asked. Except for the last few years, he always seemed to love the holidays more than me. Venturing into his garage, awkwardly pulling out his very tall ladder, I made my way up. Boxes arranged yearly by him, I had scarcely an idea where to look. Moving a few boxes here and there, noticing that each one bares his horrible penmanship, I lost heart and a deep ache started somewhere in my stomach and it grew, squeezing my breath.
Truthfully, I feel so selfish. I want things to feel as normal as possible. Nothing is normal, dreams are gone, promises are broken and I'm a bit consumed with my loneliness. I miss the feeling of someone lovingly touching skin. I miss sharing daily mundane activities with a person whose job it is to just listen until it's their turn to do the sharing. I miss the idea of being a partner in this life we walk through. This pain will subside and I will learn to live a different life and I'll make my way back into the garage, put a smile on my face and pull our memories out, one by one.
The nights are even longer once we move the clocks back. I'll be working harder to fill the hours with positive people, grateful thoughts and finding ways to be of service. I think I'm going to add a literacy program to my week as soon as the training sessions start up again.
Meanwhile, I'm going out now to practice what I preach. I'm going to show some kindness to my girl and get those boxes out. Have a wonderful night and be kind.