That time of year again

I haven’t been sleeping all that well in the last few weeks; I kept trying to tell myself that I wasn’t sure why it was such an issue recenlty: I’ve been going to the gym, monitoring my emotional health and state, talking to Kevin about my frustrations (not necessarily related to his accident), and overall just trying to remember that I control my peace, especially when others are so determined to be miserable.

Nope, I know exactly why sleep has been an issue for me lately: it’s because it’s about that time of year again.

I used to love this time of year, I loved the brisk mornings and the warm afternoons. I loved the way you could see the sparkle of frost on the aspen leaves and smell the smoke from a wood burning stove. To me, this meant a changing of the season’s, a change that typically everyone indulged in as we entered the holiday season.

Halloween would bring laughter and costumes, a reminder of our earlier youthfulness, and a return to harmless shenanigans, if you were of a mind to dress up or play tricks. And that youthful exuberance would turn into something softer, something that resembled gratitude and thankfulness as we moved right on through to the Thanksgiving holiday. Everyone was a little nicer, more patient, a bit more generous, and endlessly grateful for their blessings. We could all wander through memories to see where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. It was hard not to feel appreciative for our lives and remember that maybe, we might not have it so bad after all.

Then Christmas. My all-time favorite. I can remember when I loved to decorate the house, put the tree up, expand our set up outside. There would be garland and lights hung everywhere; ornaments were hung from tree limbs outside; lights circled the overhangs and the patio. And when it was quiet, I’d sit quietly and gaze at the tree and just breathe, thinking there was something truly magical about the season, even if the magic had changed from childhood fantasy.

I had always thought that there was something magical about this time of year, it was always something to look forward to.

But the truth is, the last few years seem to have stolen the last bit of magic I used to hold onto. We still decorate, but I’m not as invested as I used to be. Halloween is either on or not, mostly not in more recent years…I can’t even remember when I last carved a pumpkin. And Thanksgiving, while still delicious, hasn’t been the same since the T-Day 2022: ICU turkey is NOT food.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to work hard to get past this time of year, and do my best not to be too much of a grinch, but I won’t lie: this time of year is now incredibly difficult for me. This time of year is now dotted with the loss of people I loved deeply and compounded with Kevin’s accident, yeah, I struggle with it. Last year, it felt like trying to take a deep breath under water, or with a pillow smothering you, sometimes both.

I think what it comes down to is that I miss the magic; I miss the times when the holiday season had a tangible effect on the world, or at least mine. I miss the times before pain changed me. Wow. I felt that: I miss the times before pain changed me.

And I stronger now, I know I am. I turned my pain into purpose, or at least, I’m trying to. And my next step, is to purge these thoughts tonight, and maybe, just maybe, get a good night’s sleep.