Monday, December 22, 2008

It's Christmas.

Wow. I've taken a break from spending Christmas alone to coming to a friend's house in Houston. A really great friend that I can truly say has always been there, to mostly laugh all the laughs and at times like yesterday to cry the tears that just can't help but fall.

You see, yesterday her family had a Christmas/celebration of her Grandmother's 90th birthday. They took Christmas photos and tears were quick to come. I stepped outside to just look up into the sky and cry. I felt like I could, I was away from everyone, but the Christmas photos were one tradition that always existed in the Garcia family. All the families lining up, and again, this year, I would ache a little more as I chose to surround myself in a new atmosphere. I dreaded the idea, but new I couldn't hide from the "hurt" forever. I hate remembering the reality, and I'm just so thankful it was a cry that only silent tears covered the surface of my face, and not tears that brought me to my knees. I had my moment while they were finishing up and proceeded back inside.

Well, inside I lost it again, they began to sing Happy Birthday. Man, to spend the many more birthdays my mom and grandma should have had, I just buried my face in my arm (like I had a headache), and let tears continue to fall. I watched this 90 year old's woman every move that morning. I watched her use her walker as she prepared hot tea for me. I watched her share a few laughs with me. I watched her eyes light up and the sight of her family altogether. I watched, and I imagined. She's a lucky lady. A lucky lady who deserved her 90th birthday to be exactly as it was: Perfect.

I don't feel "cheated" and I'm not angry, but I am sad. I am sad, as the season rolls around and there are countless things I see that I know that would make them all happy. This season is a difficult one.

I never realized how the ache of losing mom flows in an unsteady stream. Some moments are easier than others, and some are flat out difficult. With grandma, man I miss her. I miss having a grandma, and her voice. I miss those ladies. I want them to know that. It's almost reallly Christmas, and as I share a few more laughs with the people around me, know that I picture you in the room laughing a long just as well.

Love you.

I guess this is it, another rambling post with nothing great to say.