So, here's the thing, at least for me, about grief. It hangs out inside you, perhaps talking to your internal organs, maybe they're playing poker and shooting craps, and then, like a petulant, nap-deprived toddler, it gets cranky and explodes in the middle of a conversation, and until you realize it, you think you're a crazy person.
I miss my dad. This is not a new emotion, but I didn't fully comprehend the idea of his not being present at Christmas until about a week ago. And what's really funny, that I tried to bring to mind last night when I finally allowed myself to cry and release this unknown tension that had no name, is that my dad really didn't like Christmas that much. He liked all of us being home, and he was a big fan of Jesus, but the forced gift-giving was a particular burr in his side: yet, another reason, why he and I were on the same level in terms of holidays.
If I had my way, we'd give each other presents throughout the year. Meaning, if I see a present that reminds me of you, I would like to buy it and send it to you rather than waiting for a date where we all go retail-crazy. Plus, I would like to be able to buy groceries at Wal-Mart in the month of December without having to be armed. We went there today for a FEW items and both of us nearly got taken out by old ladies and their shopping carts, plus befuddled shoppers looking for decorations and such. I hate you, Wal-Mart, but you make things that we enjoy. Damn you, white devils.
That grocery thing really had nothing to do with my dad, but it's yet another reason that this Christmas is a bit harder than I expected. It's like I told Smitty yesterday, "It is incredibly unfair that I can't call my dad and tell him a. that the George C. Scott version of "A Christmas Carol" is everywhere, and it's your favorite and mine, too, except for "Scrooged," and b. even though we draw names for gifts in my family, for the last three years, I had bought him Mississippi State gear, which he loved, and in fact, I believe was wearing part of when he died. Those things, knowing what he wanted and talking to him about holiday movies and my mom turning into a crazy person right before Christmas, I don't have those things anymore. I have different things that are no less important, but are different, and it's weird that they don't include him. I will reiterate. I miss my dad.
On a completely different note, I'm trying to read more. I used to read a book a week, and now, I'm struggling with a paperback for 2 weeks, and I have no motivation to really finish. First of all, I blame the books. If they were more interesting, I would read them, although, it's possible I have undiagnosed ADHD. Who knows? But, I am determined to be back in the happy place where I'm always reading a really good book.
I finished a giant chunk of my shopping today online, no muss or fuss, praise Jebus. I hate shopping with such a white-hot passion as Republicans shopping for hearts and brains like Friends of Dorothy...oops, too far. Anyway, I'm almost done, thank heavens...shopping is stupid.
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