The holidays are rapidly approaching, and I am so uncomfortably reminded just how different everything is.
Nothing feels the same.
The pumpkin-scented candles no longer smell like a comforting night snuggling up to Luke.
Christmas songs don’t sound like the magic and excitement of decorating our house with garland and twinkle lights.
Even the idea of Christmas shopping seems trivial and unappealing.
Hallmark movies don’t give me the “feel good” vibes that they used to.
Old family recipes don’t taste the same when your person isn’t there to devour them.
Everything is different.
I used to live for this time of year. It was everything to me. Christmastime was what I waited for all year long. I would even go so far to start listening to Christmas music in October. It was never too soon for any of it for me.
This is the first time in my whole life that I can honestly say that I don’t feel happy when I see or do anything holiday related.
Then again, it’s the first time in my whole life I could say a lot of things. Grief is a real bitch like that.
A large part of me is angry that I don’t feel like celebrating like I used to. I’m angry that my mind has convinced me that it isn’t fun anymore. I’m angry that I can’t turn the switch on and off. Im angry that I’m single yet again during the holidays (painfully single and alone). I’m angry that my sweet nieces and nephews lost not only their Uncle, but also such a large part of their Aunt this year. I’m angry I can’t do anything to change that.
I’m angry, and I’m sad.
I’m dang sad that is everything is so different.
I’m trying my hardest every single day to give myself grace while I attempt to navigate this new normal. So much easier said than done, by the way.
When you grow up in a family that is obsessed with the holidays, it makes the nightmare that I am living seem like an inescapable theme park of reminders. Everywhere I turn there is something covered in red and green glitter and twine. I can’t even use the restroom without the soap smelling like a Candy Cane or Vanilla Bean Noel.
What I wouldn’t give to have the magic back… to feel happy about the holidays again. What I wouldn’t give to see the beauty of Christmas the way that I used to.
But because that isn’t in the cards for me this year, what I wouldn’t give to press fast forward on the next 6 weeks…
What I wouldn’t give for everything to feel a little less “different.”
Confessions of a 25-Year-Old Widow 