What I Want For Christmas
Carl was getting annoyed with me when he kept asking, "What do you want for Christmas?"
That's because I kept telling him to not spend money on me.
My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer back in 2005, a few short days before Christmas, which in turn was a day or two before my grandfather's funeral. And really, the whole season, for me, is tainted, for lack of a better word. People think of the happy music, the lights, the gifts, and for me? It's just about loss. It's about the beginnings of my family falling apart, my mother losing the will to live, and my sister torturing herself over the decisions she made with my dad's health, believing that anyone whose life decisions she made would end up dead.
I still remember getting that news, with Carl's Christmas tree being the only light in my then sparsely filled living room, feeling a myriad of emotions that continued as my father's condition worsened. It's odd; as a child, the darkness used to provide an odd amount of comfort for me, and I can't explain why, but it excited me to sit next to the heater with a blanket tossed over top, and just spending time with my family. And now, the darkness reminds me that, as time goes on, I'm becoming more alone; that my family is slowly disappearing; that what I had, I can never have again.
Someone had made a comment that people's posts on LJ have been about wants and needs, and you know what? This isn't any different. What do I want? I want to be able to disassociate loss, mourning, and pain from something that used to provide so much joy for me; I WANT to feel that happiness again. And really, that's not something that Carl nor anyone else can provide for me, and any kind of a physical gift makes for a poor substitute.
That's because I kept telling him to not spend money on me.
My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer back in 2005, a few short days before Christmas, which in turn was a day or two before my grandfather's funeral. And really, the whole season, for me, is tainted, for lack of a better word. People think of the happy music, the lights, the gifts, and for me? It's just about loss. It's about the beginnings of my family falling apart, my mother losing the will to live, and my sister torturing herself over the decisions she made with my dad's health, believing that anyone whose life decisions she made would end up dead.
I still remember getting that news, with Carl's Christmas tree being the only light in my then sparsely filled living room, feeling a myriad of emotions that continued as my father's condition worsened. It's odd; as a child, the darkness used to provide an odd amount of comfort for me, and I can't explain why, but it excited me to sit next to the heater with a blanket tossed over top, and just spending time with my family. And now, the darkness reminds me that, as time goes on, I'm becoming more alone; that my family is slowly disappearing; that what I had, I can never have again.
Someone had made a comment that people's posts on LJ have been about wants and needs, and you know what? This isn't any different. What do I want? I want to be able to disassociate loss, mourning, and pain from something that used to provide so much joy for me; I WANT to feel that happiness again. And really, that's not something that Carl nor anyone else can provide for me, and any kind of a physical gift makes for a poor substitute.