So, I went on a 4 day chrise with a friend, and that was lovely- not having to do ANYTHING, eating some tasty tasty food, all good. The intention was for that to be a thing to get rested up before all the activity and ridiculousness that runs from late November to January. how well that worked remains to be seen. It was fun, anyway. Weather was mostly perfect, I got to try conch fritters (AMAZING yet somewhat distressing to the digestive system 6 hours later. I wasn’t distressed but probably anyone in proximity for 3 or 4 hours might have been), and chilled mango-ginger soup, and asparagus vichyssoise (look at that! I spelled it right the first time!!). And discovered the delight of cheese for dessert instead of something sweet. Mm. I love cheese.
The Holidays are coming. Typically I look forward to them, and look forward to January to recover from them. Notsomuch these days. It seems like…seems, nothing…it IS ENTIRELY that every bit of tradition that was developed over the last 30 years is half Himself and half me, so now it’s just going to be half me, only there’s the kids too so maybe it won’t be so bad. They will be taken one step at a time. I am not even thinking about Christmas, even though the entire town want me to, with the Christmas Tree stands and greenery every where and such. I refuse to consider it. There’s Thanksgiving to be dealt with first.
Most of my people are coming here. All the boys, The New Wife, The Girlfriend (I think), and my parents. All here. Dinner will be what I want it to be, Not Turkey, Not Dressing, And No Pumpkins Involved. Don’t get me wrong, I love all that but doing Tradition feels wrong right now. Himself LOVED tradition, and was such a sentimental person. However, I am going to do a Southern Fried dinner. Fried chicken, greens from the garden, mashed potatoes and gravy because…mashed potatoes and gravy. No other excuse needed. Also might do macaroni and cheese (from scratch) because once you cross the Mason-Dixon line into the South, it becomes a vegetable. People will be coming in Wednesday before lunch, and trickling in and out, with the last ones leaving maybe Saturday or possibly Sunday.Stuff has been going into the freezer all week, because while I can be satisfied with a can of V-8 and some Cheetoes, apparently the family expects more than that.
In the interest of attempting some sort of nod toward Christmas, I am going to attempt to make some sort of ornament that I’ve never attempted before. Apparently they’re fairly easy, but I’ll let you know. The decision about how much to put out, and how much to ignore is yet to be made, and #4 might be allowed to make that call. Currently the idea is to get a small potted Norfolk Island pine, and dangle a thing off of it, call that decorating. Even though theres 4 enormous containers of assorted stuff, it just doesn’t feel right, at the moment. Subject to change. Himself loved Christmas and all the Stuff. I may just invite him to come deal with it, as I will be busy being sad about it.
The hard part is coming on. I can feel it, and not really sure how to handle it except for One Day At A Time. See, historically (over the last 25 years) I have dealt with Depression from around November until February or early March. Thanks to Modern Medicine it hasn’t be HORRIBLE, just kind of like a bad case of the blues and no desire to smile or do anything fun. Times past it had been HORRIBLE, so I can handle the Blues, except that…
Himself was always here, encouraging, bolstering, keeping me grounded and focused on the reality of life, and not the leave in October, or garbage that Depression was feeding my brain.
And now he’s not here, I’ve got to wrestle with it alone. And that scares me. A lot. Now, I know I can do this. I have handled it all pretty well so far and thankfully he didn’t die in October because then it might have been a REAL PROBLEM. however, all the logistics have been handled and so there isn’t really anything REAL to fear, just the crap my brain likes to dole out between November and March, and Himself taught me how to love myself enough to be able to ignore the nastiness. There is still a great deal of trepidation, but if I can wrangle with Obamacare and be ok, I can manage this ok, and come out intact (sort of) on the other side. There are a lot of books that are very encouraging, a lot of friends who can drive to Savannah for a Therapeutic Hamburger, and a great place to worship on Sunday, which is a very useful way to get out of my own head for a while. As long as there are regular reminders that the nasty little bat on my shoulder, the one that whispers bullshit about being worthless, is not reality nor truthful, I’ll be ok. Maybe not Merry Sunshine Cheerful, but ok.