Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Cheap, recycled holiday garland.

Are there enough dates in a year to hold the meanings of what each one represents?  Does this sentence make any sense?  Probably not.  It makes complete sense to me but then, I'm the one writing it - and I'm a rambling lunatic, oh...housewife.  That's right, I mustn't forget my entire title. 

December dates seem to hold the most meaning to me.  I can't look at the calendar without thinking oh, today is the 15th, this was my wedding day to Jeff or tomorrow is the 22nd, my Dad passed away eight years ago tomorrow, or, so on and so forth.  Craziness.  Why can't we just let these days go?  Especially the sad ones?

I'm not necessarily saying my first wedding day was a sad day, on the contrary - it was amazing.  It held so much promise.  Everything was beautiful.  White roses, gardenias, and red tulips.  Green holly and Christmas Trees. But in the back of my mind, the smallest of voices called out and said, is this the right thing to do?  And so, like every stubborn 23 year old who's planned her fairy tale wedding from start to finish, I wasn't ready to listen to my father before he walked me down the aisle.  He said, "Maria, I don't care about the money.  I don't care about any of it.  Don't go through with this if you don't think it's right."

"Of course it's right, dad.  I love, Jeff.  It's all good."

Five years and three states later, it turned out that Jeff didn't love me.

Eight years ago tomorrow, that same wise voice and strong hand who escorted me down the aisle the first time and grinned knowingly the second time, died.  This wonderful, loving man who didn't give advice too often.  Usually, he sat back and either laughed at the ridiculousness of his family or growled at the noise level.  It saddens me to think that one of the few times he counseled me, I didn't listen. Of course, he was right.  He always was.

Dates, dates, dates...miserable dates attached with memories which for me come creeping up around the holidays every year.  Dates which hang loosely on the calendar like the cheap, recycled garland draped across the doctor's office waiting room this morning.  It reminded me of another waiting room with cheap, recycled garland so many years ago.

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