Moving Through My Holidays

img_0574I’ve been busy. The Holidays are here and bam, my life is crammed with activities and I am moving through them. Friends and family are dropping by. I’m doing things around the city – meeting people for lunch, going to another Trivia Night, and shopping. Since last week, I’ve seen people I love, embraced the many opportunities near Discovery and even made a craft project. Me! A craft project. Oh, and I did have one day where Grief put its hand out and stopped my momentum. That was a small break until I continued again.

I am not looking forward to the Holidays. A duh moment as I have mentioned it a few times. I’m not looking forward to sharing memories which now are too painful to relive. I’m not looking forward to the thoughts of how things used-to-be. I’m not looking to knowing Peter’s birthdays have ended here on earth. I’m not looking forward to knowing a person, my person, is missing at the Christmas Eve dinner table or as we exchange gifts. And I’m not looking forward to deeply mourning Peter, even if he was the grumpy man at Christmas who I cursed for not being over-the-top about it like me. I am not looking forward to any of it. Yet, I am going to try.

I’m going to try to enjoy these weeks leading up and including Christmas. I truly am. I am going to go into these next two weeks and pull up the excitement of Christmas I always held. And I’m going in honestly, with an openness to my feels, good and bad. In reality, I know it won’t be the same, nothing will ever be the same, but maybe I’ll feel something. See, sometimes, I expect to feel bad, or at least think I should feel bad, and when the time comes, I don’t. I can be an aftermath feeler – you know, fine at the moment; fall apart after. So, I’m going to give it all that I can, without pretense, and with feels for the moment.  Wow. Me? The moment feeler? Huh.

It was a good thing to be busy this past week. There was almost a normalcy in the immersion of the Holidays. Almost. I mean, normal was muted from my vocabulary when Peter died. Still, there was, is, a certain familiarity with hecticness. Part of my love of the Holidays is exactly the hustle and bustle of jammed packed days with family, friends, frenzy crowds shopping and well, okay, the eating. A little tiny bit of that part was sparked.

Yes, I fell back into the arms of Grief some time, even one full day, and I know from the curvy twisted roads of Grief, that’ll continue to happen. Yet when I’m on a straight road, no matter how bumpy or short, I am okay, more than okay sometimes, to take it.  Those are patches of roads where I get my glimpses of how things will be from now on. Of course, I know the used-to-be is up ahead with Grief as its traffic cop. I feel the tension as it teases me, pains me with angst, sadness, loneliness, and despair. I suppose the secret is to keep my eyes on the patch of road I am on in the moment. Right now, I’m only starting to learn that secret. It’ll be some time when I fully grasp it…but I do want to learn. A nod to my desire to keep moving, right?

So, in these next few weeks, with Peter’s birthday, Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s looming ahead of me, and while Dread keeps tapping on my heart, I am determined to keep on keeping on. Even with my boohoos, even with Grief trying, and sometimes succeeding, in pushing me back, I will keep on moving.

Peter, the memories of him, and the thoughts of what was used-to-be will come with me. I will hold them in pain, in remembrance, in the deep and full love I have of him, of them. No matter how heavy they become, I will carry them with me. There will be times where I can’t go much further as the weight is too massive. There will be tears and screams and anger. Firsts are always overbearing. Yet, I will give it everything in me, like I have throughout all of this, to keep on moving through the Holidays. Maybe even with an ounce of something. Joy, perhaps?