Even now

Five and a half years later

There are days when I just want to disappear

To run away from everything

All the materialism of Christmas especially

 

Because no matter how hard I try

No matter how many lights are on the house

No matter how many ornaments are on the tree

No matter how many Christmas songs are played

So much is missing too…

 

I still feel like I want a free pass

To just disappear for the whole month of December

To go do something entirely different and adventurous and new

Something that would give my new family and I

Experiences and memories that would last our lifetime…

 

A month of not focusing on rushing around for gifts 

or the many other stresses of the holidays

But on seeing things we’ve never seen before

And sharing the stories of it all with those we love when we return.

 

I guess since he died, things don’t matter to me  

Not the way they did before.

 

And it’s hard to get into that part of Christmas for me.

With a little girl to raise now,

I’m even more aware of celebrating experiences

Instead of things with her.

 

We can’t be somewhere new this year though.

We must be here.

So the best we can do is focus on experiences here

Making everyone’s presents instead of just buying it all

Making cookies and pies together

Going for winter hikes and and exploring new holiday things

We’ve never done here before.

 

I am acutely aware now of the importance of building memories.

Because I know one day, Mike and I will both be gone.

And all his daughter will have left of us are the memories.

I want her to have a heart so full of experiences of new things

and adventures and creativity and silly traditions and laughter and 

love that it’s impossible for her not to smile when she thinks of us,

even a decade after we are gone. 

 

Losing my own parents makes this even more significant to me.

I guess in a way, loss is what has lead me to being more mindful

of creating deeper meaning with those I have left.