I miss my tree. The ornaments my baby and I made together. I miss my IKEA lights. I miss my red sofa throw. I miss the 1$ Target DIY packs for kids. Yes. I miss all of these things. And am finally saying it. I miss the red framed picture of my baby. I know these are all material things. Not at all expensive. And I know that my baby is safe and happy and that is what I must be grateful for. Last year I was so sick that I never played any carols. This year I am back to my favourite 3-hour medley of songs. I have not cried like this for many days but yesterday there was a trigger — a blast from the past. I have started crying again. I don’t know why this crazy shit happens. My friends tell me I should learn from my daughter. Where does she learn to be strong they ask. I tell them I am her rock. But, who is my rock?
This Christmas, I want Santa to bring me back my things. I want that monster to send back my things. It will make me feel better. I know it doesn’t make much sense. But, this is the only way I know to cope. I completely understand what my baby feels when she says she never wants to give away an old book or dress. We are clinging with all our might to things that we have coz everything else is gone. Life as we knew it has changed beyond recognition. Not in a bad way or anything. Many things are all to the good. But, every now and then there is something that reminds me of things that have so many memories associated with them. Will these feelings ever go away? I don’t know. As I write this there are tears streaming down my cheeks and it is way past midnight.
Even if he sends back the things, I know the hurt won’t go away. The longing to have a husband (the kind sort) and a father for my baby (the best papa in the world) will always be there.