The first year I was in the nest the mommie came for a visit. She had given up traveling but she really wanted to see the nest and Hood River. She got on a plane and came out. She loved looking out the windows at the Oak Street goings on. Her only complaint was that it was hard to watch TV because Oak Street was more interesting.
On Halloween I was about to put dinner on the table when I noticed people in the middle of the street, including children. She noticed too. I opened the door and looked up the street. It had been blocked off and families were beginning to wander about, many with costumes. In front of the shops people were sitting with bowls of candy. The ice cream shop up the street was giving away free ice cream before they closed for the year. Dinner was going to wait. The mommie was captivated. Since then it's been one of my favorite times of year. Hood River feels like a small town.
This year it won't happen. I am overwhelmed with sadness. Which seems a little extreme. I think it's carrying the weight of all the larger sadness. The rise in COVID cases and deaths. The exhaustion of the health care workers. The stress of the election.
It feels dysphoric to say but COVID gave me a gift. I am so glad the mommie isn't here for it. I don't know how I would have taken care of her. The news coming out of care facilities is terrifying. There is a place near by in which there were a few deaths. There had been a fall in the care giving because they couldn't get workers. Those stories hit me hard. Yesterday in the NY Times there was an article about senior facilities and the problems with care. Because of all of that it's the first time I've been able to relax into the fact of her being gone.
Usually I start getting a little sad in November. I see the cover of a magazine with pictures of turkey dinners. I remember Thanksgiving dinners that I loved cooking. The pain in my knees makes it hard to get cereal and milk in a bowl. I won't be cooking any big dinners. The date of her death is just before Thanksgiving. I get sadder and sadder through the month. The day after Thanksgiving I'm ready to put up Christmas decoration. I'm still a little sad but Thanksgiving just feels like loss now. Once it's over I'm ready to have a holiday.
I'm usually so caught up in Oak Street Halloween that I don't feel the sadness. This year I guess it's going to start a little early.
I don't have the ... uh ... I dunno ... what ever it takes to buck up today. I'm trying (not entirely successfully) to stay away from the news and doom scrolling. Read my book. Take it one breath at a time.
2 comments:
K and I are drinking rather a lot while watching a deeply weird Zoom Rocky Horror Picture Show. It’s the best effort our household can muster to buck up.
You are not alone in the sadness of this time. Holidays aren't normal and neither is anything else. We will all have to figure out new ways of celebrating. Sign...
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