Finally in bed, the tacky tree I pulled down from the attic (so as not to scar the boy) is glowing from the living room. I give in to it finally the heaving poor me sobs, Christmas alone with out my Chris. Coincidence the Christmas has his name in it? Or that every Christmas we had was because of him. If it was up to me I would ignore it all. But now i know what a truly fun,wonderful and loving day it can be. So glad I learned that lesson so it could be ripped from my heart leaving a gaping hole that oozes pain and and drips anger. Anger that I was given the gift and for only a short while. Why show the child all the gifts under the Christmas tree only to shove them back in the orphanage. How draconian. Sleep finally stops the descent into a Charles Dickens nightmare.
i awake early the next morning. I see the lobster boat in the harbor. just another December morning, nothing looks like Christmas out on the water. I am relieved.
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