Last week was the anniversary of my grandmother's death. This would be my paternal grandmother, since both of them died in December. I did not mention it last week nor write about it because I wasn't home. I think that is a good thing. I'm thinking about it now, and all it is doing is dragging my soul down. My heart just feels heavy. I miss her. I miss my maternal grandmother.
We watched "A Christmas Story" tonight, and all I wanted to do was bawl because the Old Man reminds me so much of my grandfather and how he used to be around Christmas.
Blah. The waterworks are starting. I don't want to do this, but if I keep it bottled up, I'm going to be depressed throughout the holiday, and I really don't want to ruin it for my son or husband.
I think I'm also crying because I'm listening to religious Christmas carols, and all they're doing is reminding me of how much I lost when my faith went PFFFFFT. It's a bitch at times to think about it, especially during the holy days for my old religion. Other times I could give a fuck about it all. Ah, conflict. Why can't I be normal?
Merry fucking Christmas.
Hugs!
ReplyDelete