... but when Christmas comes around ... I get a bit depressed.
This has happened ever since my divorce.
Let me say to all of you who are wondering why I'm complaining and writing a sob story
- I KNOW I am blessed
- I KNOW I have my health
- I have a family who loves me
- I'm surrounded by loved ones
- I have friends who love me
- I'm not 'really' by myself since Cooper lives here too
- I KNOW there are people who have a very, vErY, VERY hard life
- My life is CAKE compared to others
- I've just returned from South Africa & seen/heard/witnessed/experienced A LOT of hardship, sadness, sickness, etc. ...
For the last three Christmases ... I wake up by myself.
To a quiet, still house.
And I know all these things are material ... but I hate waking up and coming down to a tree with no present underneath.
No stockings stuffed to the brim.
No one with me.
And I know those are memories from my childhood that I wish I still had.
I hate waking up by myself.
Shouldn't Christmas morning be filled with family and laughter and up-too-early and excitement and paper-torn and ribbons-flying and squealing-with-excitement and glee?
I'm sure I sound totally spoiled or ungrateful.
But please be assured, I am NOT spoiled and NOT ungrateful.
I am more grateful than most people ... because of various personal experiences ... I am WAY grateful.
But I can't help feeling alone ...
And all this makes me THAT much more grateful for family and health and friends.
And I long for the day that I will have my own husband and children.
Perhaps THAT is what I'm grieving.