I can’t shake this feeling lately. Of a huge let down, a monstrous feeling of gloom. It is sneaking its way into everything I do, everything I feel and everything I eat. It could be that I’m missing my Dad more than usual. It could be that I’m hyper aware that my Mom doesn’t have much time left. It could be mom guilt, exhaustion, stress about finances, worry about Bruno, it could be just about anything.
But I think, I really think, it’s just that I’m realizing how very alone I am.
Yes, yes, I know God is always with me, and believe me without Him I would’ve drowned a long time ago. And yes, I have a great husband who adores me most of the time and doesn’t let on when he doesn’t. He’s a smart man. I have a daughter that has true joy in her heart and has the strongest will around. She has a precious heart, as her counselor says. I have friends, GREAT friends. Friends who listen, who walk with me, who care deeply and who will send me crazy meme’s when I need a laugh.
I have the ability to write about my feelings. An outlet that saves me constantly. An outlet that gives me the space to explore how I feel and what I need. And you, my readers, tend to give me heartfelt feedback and enjoy what I write which always gives me a lift. I mostly write for myself, but who doesn’t appreciate a compliment?
Because I have these terrible feelings right now, all I can do is wait it out. There is no magic cure. The ever-present awareness of my Mom’s disease is a scourge to me. I am powerless and helpless, no amount of my love can save her. No amount of her love for me can remove it. She would have done anything to avoid this, I know. Is it a sin to say I wish she was free? I wish she was dancing in heaven with my Dad, free of pain and free of the mental anguish. My mental anguish – she literally knows nothing anymore. I hate this for her. So much that I often feel nauseous just thinking about it.
And so I wait.
I’m waiting for Christmas. A time of cheer and goodwill. Fairy lights and brightly wrapped gifts. Giving and love and high spirits. I need me a good Christmas party to go to. To bake cookies and shit. To spend time, without feelings of guilt, with my daughter. To know that it’s ok to RELAX and enjoy the season. To make fudge, to make presents. To listen to Christmas music that makes my stepdaughter cringe, but which Baby Girl loves. To sing Jingle Bells at Baby Girl’s request until I want to throw up. To laugh, but NOT to cry.
I don’t know what this season will bring. I am afraid of it, but also very much looking forward to it. I don’t know the future outcome of Bruno’s injury. I don’t know the answers to stress about finances, or if I will ever conquer the desire to eat my feelings. Mostly, I don’t know where my Mom will be in ten weeks.
I am waiting. Waiting for joy again. It will come. And peace will come with it.
