I’m trying really hard to paint and put on my mask as Christmas quickly creeps up on me. It’s so hard for everyone to understand why Christmas is not a joyous holiday for me. I remember last Christmas (just days after I buried Hazel and a week more after burying Willow) having my family tell younger nieces and nephews I was sick. That’s why I was acting like that. Why I wasn’t happy and laughing and wanting to be a part of the celebrating.
I wanted to scream, “I’m not sick. My children died.”
Even though we just passed the one year milestones, Christmas still brings up all those memories for me. I’m sure it always will too. I am thankful for my time with my daughters, but I want to be selfish. I want more time. I want infinite time. Something I can never have. I want to be caught in a perpetual time loop where I am with them always.
But I can’t. I must go forward. Not move on, as so many want me to, but just go forward. Everyone thinks this year will be different, that all will be better. It’s just not true. Nothing will ever bring Willow and Hazel back. No one will every replace them. I will have new joys in my life, but the sorrow will remain. The sorrow will make the joy that much better, and I will be more appreciative of it, but joy doesn’t ‘fix’ previous sorrow like it never happened.
It did happen. I will never forget. I will always love deeply, and he will know them.