You are here too

This time of the year makes me melancholy in a deep and cutting way. After it is over, I always forget exactly how it feels (because I want to forget) and in the end, I always remember exactly how it feels - because the cycle of life is such, that this time of the year has the inevitable tendency to re-occur.

I remember the bad things, all in a flash. They appear to me in dreams, half-digested, half-felt, they appear to me when I'm eating a bread roll, they seep through my eyes when I watch, or look at something harmless and unconnected. When November's days get shorter, colder and darker and threaten with the imminent arrival of December, that's when I remember.

Curiously, every year thus far, since the death of my maternal grandmother on Christmas eve long ago, has managed to add to the bad things quota. The worst events have certainly involved death, but I now realise that last year, another stone was added inside the coffin of Bad Things Before Christmas. The mental despair and physical pain I was embroiled in and the anxious undertone to the, then, fledgling relationship Timo and I had, have left their marks. What adds weight, I think, is the knowledge that I now possess; that I was right, they were wrong, and that at the time I naively thought everything would be better in January when in fact I had almost a whole year's worth of suffering ahead.

I recognised the taste of that fear and pain from back then when again, today, I had a flash-back moment. I see, I thought. You are here too now.

Undoubtedly the worst of all Bad Things for this time of the year is the sequence of events that led to my mother's suicide.

Waiting for a cab in front of the hospital after chemotherapy. Mother defiantly smoking, her birdlike fingers red raw from the icy November breeze. What does it matter if I get lung cancer too? Perfectly manicured, bright pink talons clutch the cigarette stub.

Going to the laundrette with her sheets and towels. Cutting her thinning hair. I hate going to the hairdresser. You do it.

And in the end, the police, the corpse grimacing at me from the mortuary, the cremation, all that and more to come. All that and more.

In the hope that this year will break the chain, I have cautiously dipped my toes into the festive spirit and homely feelings. This Christmas will be spent in two ways at our household. First, a very brief break from the madness of running a store (Christmas Eve and Christmas Day). We will have a very private, very basic small celebration. Just the two of us, in our flat. This time last year we hadn't moved in together yet, so this will be a first.

Then, at some point before New Year, we will drive down to the coast and spend a couple of days with Timo's mother.

Today, I bought a small Christmas tree for our flat. It looks sweet, but slightly apologetic; as if it's somewhat embarrassed to be calling itself a Christmas tree. But it has potential. And that's enough for now, I think.

Comments

[Nukapai]

Misty, I'm sorry to hear about all the crappy stuff that your Christmas and Easter carry with them. I'm quietly optimistic that every year can't be full of shit, so I'll cross my fingers for both of us.

[Misty]

I know how you're feeling. My father died just after a very long stay in hospital just after Christmas, and then two years after, my Grandmother died on the same day. Easter is also a bad time for me as that's when my Mother decided to commit suicide too. Easter is rather easier to ignore, but I don't do Christmas anymore, I do Winter Solstice instead. If anybody wants me around the 25th, I shall be taking my little dog out for a very long walk. I hope your Christmas this year is the start of many happier ones. *hugs*

[Nukapai]

Tony, long time no see! And Emma too! Thank you for popping in. Em, I will email you soon.

[Emma (aka the Bride)]

Hi sweetheart. The link in my navbar brought me here. I have been thinking of you every day for the past four weeks; and wanted to call for a loooong chat. Bugger, I've lost your landline number. How long has it been since the last time? LOL
I am too knackered to read trough the whole blog, but hey... i'm here too :-)
Always stubbornly single, unwillingly resilient, over-broke, over-worked and over-missing faraway friends.
I miss you; and wish you all the joy you diserve. Merry Christmas.

[rG]

Darling, grandiose xmas trees are the worst kind. I like ones that are postmodern takes on a xmas tree. And there is something that inspires me to be melancholic during the holidays. Everyone has their significant others and goes into a sort of hibernation. There's a quiet frenzy. And if you get caught up, things become awful, awful!

But the end of the year is always a great time to pause and just take stock of the past year of life. And everything you'd like to do for the next year.

[Tony]

The fact that you can talk so logically about your thoughts, fears and anxieties is surely positive, despite what lurks there, you're meeting it head on and not running away.

Enjoy your Christmas decorating.

[jane]

my goodness, this time of year is certainly difficult for you. i've found much of what you said to also be true in my life. as we get older, the holidays become more filled with loved ones we miss.
i hope you heart is filled with gladness.

[Michelle]

I am sorry you have been through so much, but happy to hear of your new traditions, even the "apologetic" looking tree.

I can realted whole heartedly to the first paragraph of your post. I always start feeling this way in November and it lasts until about mid-January. While my grandfather died on 11/3 (years ago) I do not think this is it. For me it is more obtuse. Yet to be figured out in its entirety.

Thank you for sharing so much and so deeply.

[Seawave]

My heart has broken reading your post, and I am hurting so much for you as I read your beautifully written post.

I stand up and applaud your desire and effort to try and make some new memories that can perhaps break the unhappy cycle that Christmas has brought you in the past. I pray for some small spark of joy that builds with the coming days and the coming years that will help to balance the sadness you have felt this time of year.

May a Christmas miracle be forthcoming for you. I pray for peace, comfort and joy for this this holiday season.