Traditions

My back hurts. It hurts like I was in a car accident. It is so tight I can barely walk, I am uncomfortable no matter what I do. I am waiting on the doctor to call in a script so I can refill my muscle relaxer. It hurts so bad I left work early yesterday, I didn't work today and I probably wont work tomorrow. My back is killing me. I need you to understand the physical pain I am in. It is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil inside. I didn't even realize it til Beckett said something. She knows I am upset about my Grandma Kelly. Beckett made the connection I overlooked. Depression hurts.

The moment she said it tears sprang to my eyes and my heart stopped beating and I couldn't breath. Depression freaking hurts. Now I can't stop thinking about it. I can't let go. I have to do something or I am going to curl up and and hide and try desperately to not exist. God, just writing this is causing my throat to close up. I can barely see through my tears. But I know, I know, inside that this is where I need to be. I need to tell someone and I decided to tell you.

Long before I remember we celebrated Christmas Eve at my Grandma Kelly's. We had dinner at her house and opened stockings and then went to church. After church we returned and opened gifts and sang happy birthday to the newborn King of Kings. The evening would end with my dad driving us around to look at lights. We would get in our Christmas pajamas, have hot cocoa and listen as my dad read The Night Before Christmas.

We did this every year. It is a tradition. Traditions are very important to my Grandma Kelly. And I didn't realize until recently how very important they are to me. I spent years being a spoiled brat. I didn't appreciate all she did for me, for us all. I didn't see how hard she worked or how much she gave. I saw price tags and irritation. I would snicker and moan and groan. I would make smart ass comments like, "Well so and so opened a pair of gloves so I know I got that too." I was so inconsiderate. I never thought of her feelings. I know, I really do, that some of that has to do with the age I was at. But I am having a hard time accepting that. I was an ass.

This Christmas Eve was so like Christmas Eve's past, yet so very very different. We looked for the pickle hidden in the tree, we ate to much and laughed a lot. We cried a lot too. It was a bittersweet Christmas, because we know it is the last. (Give me a moment, I feel like I am suffocating here.) There will never be another Christmas with my Grandma Kelly. The cancer is taking that away from us. The cancer, I hate that. I hate it. As I am typing this I am so freaking angry I can't stand it. I want to hit something I want to scream. I want to hurt something because I am hurting so much inside. I hate you Cancer I hate YOU! And I will be honest I hate God a little right now too. What right do they have to take my traditions? What right do they have to kill her a little every day and there is NOTHING any of us can do about that. I am angry. I am pissed.

She told us to take her stockings home with us. She knows. But we couldn't. How can I take that home? She gave us all a plate of cookies. The cookies were on antique plates that she has had forever. They were the last set and she didn't know how to divide them up. She knew we wouldn't take them so she gave us no choice. She cried when she watched us open our presents. She silently sat there with tears falling down her cheeks. My aunt hugged her and asked her if they were tears of happiness and she said they were. At least they weren't tears of pain. I hugged her close to me and I felt how frail she has become. I didn't want to hug to tight I was afraid I would break her. I hugged her as often as I could. I cried on my way home Christmas night. It was all over. The two days were done and Christmas 2012 was beginning to become a memory.  To say I cried is an understatement. I bawled. I sobbed. I broke.

Next year we will all get together for Christmas Eve. We will honor her memory. We will laugh and we will cry and we will open stockings and eat cheese cake and sing Happy Birthday to the new born King of Kings. But a seat will be empty. I know by then my anger will subside. I will miss her and I will remember her. I will laugh at stories of Christmas Eve past. I will look for the pickle and I will probably cry on my way home. But I will know she is with us. She will be in everything we do. She will laugh with us and cry with us. I know she will be sitting next to us at church, something she hasn't been able to do for a long while. She will be in every tradition so has worked so hard to make. My Grandma says if you do it once it is a tradition.

I need to say a prayer now, though honestly I don't want to.

Dear God, Thank You for today. Thank You for one more. For one more Christmas, one more tradition and one more day to tell her we love her. Thank You for all the little things I am having trouble seeing right now because my grief is so heavy. Thank You for loving me even when I am angry at You. Thank You for forgiving me and holding me up when I feel so very weak and depressed. I know that without You I can not make it through all of this. Thank You for making me Your child. Please, please be with my Grandma Kelly as she walks this path. Hold her up when she can not walk and give her comfort when she hurts. I do love You so. Please forgive me. Amen