Thursday, December 27, 2012

After Christmas Crash

All the emotion stirred up by the condensed good-will of "The Holidays" is enough to make me crazy. I feel like there's an electric current constantly running through my heart and head, and no grounding of grandchildren to absorb the extra energy. Where does one put the love when there are no little ones to hold?

I thought that I had done so well this Christmas, limiting our gift giving to only those with whom we have an active relationship, and carefully spacing our events with downtime in between them. I felt good about seeing other families with starry-eyed children taking photos in front of the casino Christmas display. I was at peace with leaving our son's family gift on his stepmother's doorstep to be given to him and his family when he arrived at their family Christmas celebration. I vicariously enjoyed our daughter's family Christmas through facebook and phone calls. Richard and I are still in love. What could make for a better season of gratitude for our blessings?

It all came tumbling together during the day after. The friend I've had for longer than any other lost her next-door-neighbor to suicide by drug overdose on the day before Christmas Eve. His fiance lost her husband last April and is being put out of her home by her former step-daughter. My friend is a yoga instructor, which gives her a source of great inner peace, but the studio is closed for the holidays. We spent the morning comforting each other over a buffet breakfast. It is so nice to have somebody who has known our hearts since before we went to grade school.

On the way home from breakfast, I heard from my son's stepmother. She regaled me with what a wonderful Christmas her family had at her beautiful waterfront home, in front of her fireplace, with the many generations all together in celebration. I was thrilled for all of them and was salivating over her description of the Beef Wellington her oldest son had made. As an aside, she mentioned that my son's family gift from us was mistakenly given to somebody else. My visions of their surprise and joy when they were opening it were dashed.

The bulkhead began to crack in the car on the way to shop for tomatoes for Richard's sandwiches I fix him for lunch at his beloved PT boat. When Richard got home from the boat, I calmly explained the phone call from my son's stepmother, and my wonderful knight in shining armor simply went over to her house to retrieve the unwrapped gift. Meanwhile, I heard from my sister-in-law calling from Austria and a very good friend that I haven't seen in a couple of years who is coming to town in a week. My emotional boat had become overloaded and taking on too much water. I was quickly sinking. I had to bail out some of that ballast. By the time Richard returned, I simply couldn't stop sobbing.

Bless his compassionate heart, he re-wrapped and re-delivered the gift without a word about how unreasonable I was being. Love doesn't have a reason, and I wish people didn't save up so much for such a short, intense season.

1 comment:

  1. Good entry, expresses the feelings of many, for the day after. Thank God we found the cure many years ago. Richard is truly Sir Richard.