... newer stories
Montag, 23. Dezember 2019
Christmas fears
anna mestisa, 03:02h
Every step closer towards Christmas is hurting more. I feel my body getting tense every week further into the advent. How my mind gets restless and I get busy to ignore it.
At first I went from one appointment to another, had real fun, because these activities are part of the Christmas season and didn't concern my family. All appointments with my colleagues, just my friends and my mans parents, all not affected from my fathers loss, were blissful. They were all familiar joyful traditions and usual nice warm comfy get togethers.
I baked and felt happy digging my hands in the dough, smelling this well known cookies in the oven. And it starts to cut, knowing how I won't give a bag of cookies to my father this year and all years to follow. I push the pain away. I try to put on a brave face.
But all of these nice greetings as honest as they are meant, they have nothing to do with my peak of the season. This season won't be like the ones I used to know. My colleagues might have the merry Christmas I wish them, but I won't. My family won't. That's definite.
I know Advent cumulates into three nights, that I usually spent with my family and close friends. Usually this is the best part of it all. Just be with the ones that hold your back all through the year. Be together. Be loud together. Eat crazy much together. Celebrate, be dumb and lazy together.
Instead the peak of my advent will be definitely the lowest of lows of this first painful year of grief.
We will be just partly together. One will definitely be missed. And we will be silent. We will eat somehow a bit. We will be reflective, thoughtful, and restless together and all alone at the same time. I'm saddened before Christmas is even here. I feel how the things, that used to be the most joyful turn into the most agonizing things of all. How can that even be? Well, this Christmas is not the same as I lost my father this year. He chose to be not here with us. This decision he made clear minded or depressed, either way the results hurts.
And believe me, the fear of the pain of a certain day is often more hurtful than the pain itself. Just like the time around his Birthday was and probably like the time around his death day will be, which is also getting closer... This is just too much too bear.
20.12.19
Bild: Jan-Henrik Franz | unsplash.com
At first I went from one appointment to another, had real fun, because these activities are part of the Christmas season and didn't concern my family. All appointments with my colleagues, just my friends and my mans parents, all not affected from my fathers loss, were blissful. They were all familiar joyful traditions and usual nice warm comfy get togethers.
I baked and felt happy digging my hands in the dough, smelling this well known cookies in the oven. And it starts to cut, knowing how I won't give a bag of cookies to my father this year and all years to follow. I push the pain away. I try to put on a brave face.
But all of these nice greetings as honest as they are meant, they have nothing to do with my peak of the season. This season won't be like the ones I used to know. My colleagues might have the merry Christmas I wish them, but I won't. My family won't. That's definite.
I know Advent cumulates into three nights, that I usually spent with my family and close friends. Usually this is the best part of it all. Just be with the ones that hold your back all through the year. Be together. Be loud together. Eat crazy much together. Celebrate, be dumb and lazy together.
Instead the peak of my advent will be definitely the lowest of lows of this first painful year of grief.
We will be just partly together. One will definitely be missed. And we will be silent. We will eat somehow a bit. We will be reflective, thoughtful, and restless together and all alone at the same time. I'm saddened before Christmas is even here. I feel how the things, that used to be the most joyful turn into the most agonizing things of all. How can that even be? Well, this Christmas is not the same as I lost my father this year. He chose to be not here with us. This decision he made clear minded or depressed, either way the results hurts.
And believe me, the fear of the pain of a certain day is often more hurtful than the pain itself. Just like the time around his Birthday was and probably like the time around his death day will be, which is also getting closer... This is just too much too bear.
20.12.19
Bild: Jan-Henrik Franz | unsplash.com
... link (0 Kommentare) ... comment
... older stories
