Get It Right
Here we are one day before Thanksgiving and my home is nearly completely decorated for Christmas. I’m going to bring down the tree today. I was going to wait, but decided, what the heck. In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, the spot where the tree goes look bare and I think the room can use the color. The children will come Friday, there will be laughter and joy. We’ll walk over to town. Watch fireworks and stand under the well lit oaks of the Pedernales Electric Coop.
Then everyone will leave, and I will have an entire month to enjoy the decorations mostly by myself. I couldn’t do it the first year after my wife died. Did it last year and it helped. This year feels as though I’m still walking up hill, but the slope is a little more gentle. I was probably a little manic last year. I think next week I’ll send out Christmas cards. Sort of an antiquated custom, but I enjoy doing it. I left space on the pie safe in amongst the angels for any cards I receive. And I’ll get some, I’m sure.
There’s always a sense at Christmas that I’ve forgotten something. I have managed to score some Christmas presents and I have plans for more. But the idea I’ve missed something has always been there. It’s even more pronounced now that my wife has passed, because I’m solely responsible for the holiday and that feels weird. It’s as though the holiday has been assigned to the least capable person in the room. It’s a good thing the important people in my life love me in spite of my shortcomings, because they know I’m trying really hard to get it right.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale