Everyone has that moment in time that they can point to when they feel Christmas changed. For some people it’s when they found out Santa Claus didn’t exist, for other people it’s when they moved away from home for college.
For me however Christmas quit being Christmas when my mom got to sick that we couldn’t decorate the house with the village or home made ornaments she made.
It’s when the medical equipment took over my life and I didn’t have room to have a full Christmas dinner anymore. It was sometime in the last 10 years that Christmas had lost it’s magic for me. That I even quit wrapping presents all together for those who I would give them to, and instead just handed them to people. Days, weeks and even months ahead of Christmas.
They say that Christmas is the most depressing time of year and for me it was always filled with anxiety attacks of dealing with my dads family, and now depression that they are all gone. The only family I have left is my mother and I sometimes wonder if I’m a bad person for not pulling the plug when she first got sick 10 years ago. She’s had absolutely no quality of life since she has
passed away gotten sick. Yes. She’s a shell of her former self. The strongest most stubborn brilliant person ever in my life who could go toe to toe with people with PhD and be smarter than them on every subject.
Now she has shakes, and is loopy. It hurts me to even be in the same room with her. Most days I think I hang on long enough to see her either get better, or pass away. I think it’s cruel that I feel this way. I think it’s horrible that she may never come home again, and never see her animals that she loved so much.
I wish things would improve, it’s one of the few times a year I go to church because I want to have some semblance of normal.
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