It's Dec. 5, & I had to finally force myself to set up the tree.
I didn't even have the oofta to drag myself to a tree lot, so the good ol' reliable fake got put to use. Again.
I've been watching Christmas movies & cutting paper snowflakes, hoping that amid the scraps of paper or in the familiar one-liners, I can find some shadow of my former Christmas glee. Pick it up. Dust it off. Be merry & bright again.
I'm not Scroogy about Christmas being here. Quite the opposite. But I'm so ... so desperately homesick. I started crying in Walmart the other night after smelling a candle. A candle!
Erik helped me hang some of the decorations, and I regaled him with Tales of Working Christmases Past - of driving in snowstorms, eating at Wendy's on Christmas Day because it was the only thing open in Laramie, Christmas Day bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Everett-to-Longview drive, and chauffering Santa around for Christmas Eve engagements ...
I talked to Mom & Dad today. Dad's blue, too. Sad their house isn't decorated, bummed that he can't find a lot of the decorations (& wouldn't be able to carry them if he did find them), really low at the realization that we won't be there. Told his therapist he's done journaling stuff. Doesn't see the point.
I almost felt the same way about putting up twinkle lights & tinsel. It was a chore to decorate this year, instead of a joy.
That makes me more sad than I know how to say.
