This will be my third Christmas without Ginny [View all]
God, why is it so hard to type this? I know I've been warned that the holidays can be very hard on someone who lost a spouse, but right now it's so much effort to even type.
There's a flood of memories, good and bad. There's the one time we were really late to visit my folks for Christmas because Ginny insisted on stopping everywhere along the way, and her parents who had been waiting patiently at my parents' house finally gave up and left. Not the best way to commemorate a holiday. But then there are the other memories - the orange cinnamon rolls we always baked and shared every Christmas morning, the cats playing with scraps of wrapping paper, the ever-present struggle to keep Axl from swallowing ribbons, Piper the cockatiel serenading us with her squeaks, the stocking hung over the chimney at my folks' house with Ginny's name on it that we can't bear to part with, the international Santas that Ginny always displayed every holiday season, her collection of Possible Dreams Santas up on the entertainment center (the Santa with the bird house was her favorite), and me telling Ginny "You don't have to get me anything" when she fretted about the medical bills making it hard to shop for everybody - I cry now, but these memories also made me smile sometimes.
Right now, my Christmas cheer is gone. Because she's gone. All our furry and feathered companions are gone. I'm the only one left. Am I selfish for wanting them all back? Just for one more Christmas? Just so I can hold Ginny and tell her "I love you" one last time, to tell her that she was my best friend - and sometimes my only friend?
If you're spending the holidays without your loved one, please know that I feel the same pain that you do. Thank you for putting up with me.