Surviving Christmas

my new guitar

Whew!

Who knew widowhood would be so tough? It is sneaky and likes to set traps and snark attacks when you least expect it. I had gotten a small fiberoptic tree, lightly decorated it, with gnomes, had been doing Christmas shopping throughout the year, was prepared to try some holiday baking, then BAM, and it wasn’t Emeril. I set out to write cards, starting with those who sent me cards. That was as far as I got. Simply signing my name to 10 cards, no messages at all, was excruciating. Who knew?

December 8 was the anniversary of meeting Ron. It hit me. But the snow came in the night and gave me a gift along with a dusting of snow and cold. It finally gave me voice and lyrics to a song I had begun writing the month after his death. When I had first started composing the melody, I knew it would be complicated. It began in sadness as something deep and strong. Then as I kept on playing it over and over and over, no words came. And my son, also a musician, would ask me if I have the lyrics, and I would tell him no. But in the wee hours of that anniversary, the words came in the frozen snow and told the tale of a romance for the ages. Even last night I was still adding lyrics, and playing it in the wee hours. The melody has melded with my soul, the words are a story indelible to my heart. And it is true. Now I search a title. That, too, will come in time. What could have hit me as extremely sad gifted me with words. Who knew?

Sometime in the week leading up to Christmas, since I live in a complex for older adults, I was brought a gift – a warm blanket, slippers, and a few other things, Simply for being old-er. Who knew that one could find comfort in such thoughtfulness?

Meanwhile. Christmas happened. Yes, there were some blue moments, but my son brought me to his house and I shared Christmas Eve with him, his girlfriend and all the roomies. And we watched the campy Mario brothers movie, and opened gifts. The next day, Danny and his girlfriend brought me along to her family’s Christmas, and there was more food, and gifts, and laughs.. I started to doze on the couch like an old person. I continued to doze in the car, and when they brought me home, they pretty much startled me awake. Then, I cozied up in my chair with my cat, ready to watch a holiday movie and… you guessed it, I fell asleep. Who knew?

Yet I find it hard to let go of the season. It is only a few days after the event, and I loathe to say goodbye to instrumental versions of Christmas music. The cello and piano are so good! I hate to pack my fiberoptic tree – its faint light is a comfort in the night. And since I barely did any Christmas baking, I gave the ingredients as gifts. That works. What will I watch when the Christmas movies are vaulted up until next year? I despise gore, crime, suspense.

How will I react to little milestones? Anniversaries of events, days, that could trigger any kind of feeling? Who knows? I only know that it is normal that I don’t know and that I face a wide variety of feelings, drama, sadness, joy, renewal, and comfort. I will be like New England weather. Wait a moment, it will change.

Blessings for 2022. This will be the year without. The first full year I walk alone without my friend. This will be the last tax return filed joint but deceased. New beginnings, and as each year brings, new hopes, joys, dreams. And yes, even in retirement one can dream. Who knew? Aloneness doesn’t mean loneliness. And remember when those moments hit, and they will, to choose joy.