December 25, 2002

Ah, Christmas

What is it about waking up in the middle of the night that makes people�s thoughts turn to dark places?

Or maybe it�s just Christmas.

I really hate Christmas.

I have ever since I was seven and my daddy died a few short weeks before. That year we didn�t have much to celebrate. I remember begging my mom to forgo the annual trip to California and forget about Christmas. I asked her not to buy a tree or put up a single decoration. And she didn�t.

It�s sad really, thinking back on it. A recently widowed woman staying all alone in a house with her seven year old daughter. And it was cold and devoid of even the slightest bit of comfort. Because in my family people are strong. We don�t show our pain. We�re raised to hold it in and deal with it like men.

And I don�t remember seeing her shed a single tear. And I went out of my way to make sure I didn�t. Not in front of her. Not when anyone would see. I wanted to be strong for her.

But I remember sitting outside on the back porch on Christmas day holding my cat and bawling my eyes out. I remember crying myself to sleep at night when I didn�t ask if I could sleep with my mom.

I woke up thinking about all that right now. I woke up and cried and sat down to write this. To put my sorrow in to words and share it with the faceless masses. On Christmas. I wonder if you all resent me for that? I really didn�t mean to do it..

{I added two entries last night, so click back..}

2:34 a.m.

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