Boxing Up Memories

I took down the Christmas tree yesterday.  It was overdue. I was planning to do it last weekend but between a combination of needing to work and being sick, that did not happen.  So I was determined to get the tree down and the few, sparse Christmas decorations put away yesterday.

What I wasn't prepared for was the few bouts of tears that occurred along the way.  As I removed ornaments from the tree and boxed them up, I would recall the memory of each piece.  The glass ornaments I packed back up in their original boxes with price tags from some store that has long since closed.  Ed and I would have gone out and bought these on our first Christmas together.  I'm sure at the time we thought we were spending a fortune as I glanced at the original price tags of $2.97 and $3.99.  The $12.99 we paid for the beautiful angel for the top of tree.  Yes, our selection was timeless and I still think she's beautiful.  Ed would have picked these out.  Yes, we would have been shopping together and browsing the selection.  But Ed had an eye for what he liked and didn't like.  I'm sure we spent a good amount of time perusing the selection with Ed carefully making each selection.

Naturally there were also the "special" ornaments....Our "First Christmas Together"....two of them.  The one bought in 1982 by me and Ed when we were living together, but not yet married.  And then the one from 1984 from my sister-in-law that commemorated that "First Christmas Together" as a married couple.

I also had the task of boxing up all of Dan's ornaments.  Every year, we (and now I) have given Dan a dated ornament to commemorate some event or activity in his life during that year.  Each year, with each ornament, I have enclosed a written note explaining why that particular ornament was selected.  Naturally, these conjured up memories.  Memories from when he was younger and the ornaments reflected his life as a child--coloring, swing sets, and playing ball...and later ones reflecting the life of a young man--studying in Italy, graduating college, his first apartment.  These brought warm memories of many years of a wonderful life and how blessed we were and ignorant of that fact.

The tears didn't come then.  But they came later as I packed up the Santa that Ed bought me from a local craft fair.  We bought the Santa together and then Ed contacted the woman who made it (she lived locally) and bought me the Mrs. Claus and Elf as a surprise gift.  So every year the three of them are placed on our stairs.  And the tears came as I recalled Ed's thoughtfulness and how sweet he was to me and how I miss that so much.

But the tears came too when I packed up the Tigger that Dan had bought Ed.  Ed loved Tigger and Dan and I had taken a bus trip to NYC with some other family members.  Ed didn't want to go (not a big fan of bus trips) and so he stayed home.  Dan found this in the Disney store and bought it for his father with his own money.  Ed loved it which explains the wet eyes that ensued as I hugged that Tigger tight before packing him away with the other decorations.


There weren't many decorations to put away though.  I didn't put many out.  Somehow time got away from me and the few that got put up were done the week before Christmas.  But there were so many that I didn't put out and I feel bad about that.  The collection of Byers Choice carolers and nutcrackers.  Ed bought me every Byers Choice and each year he picked out one that was dated for that year.  I remember telling him one year that I had too many and he really needed to stop buying them for me.  He did, that next year....when he died.

At some level I feel bad that I fell short with Christmas this year.  There was no baking.  The decorations were minimal.  Ed would have been disappointed for he loved my cookies and loved Christmas.  But he would have been here to help.  At one point, Dan asked me why I didn't have enough time.  At first, I was miffed thinking he was judging me, but he wasn't.  It was just a question.  And as I pondered this question, I do know that work was more demanding than usual and required more of my time this year.  Time off that I usually took to prepare for the holidays was cut short or non-existent.  So that was part of it.

The other part is that this year the holidays were very difficult for me.  As I'm told, it's usually the second year that is the hardest.  The year when the grief is not as heavy and life is not as much of a blur as that first year.  However, last year, we were dealing with my mother's illness so there was no time to think about me or my life.  So maybe this year was difficult because the entire year was difficult and because the reality of what is now my life I am faced with more clearly.

There is a sadness that has totally enveloped me these past few months. In particular as I watch others whose lives have continued on "as usual".  They go home to their happy homes filled with loved ones to greet them.  They have husbands who are there when there are tasks to be done but also to provide that emotional support at the end of  a difficult day.  They laugh and do things together and their lives have returned to what they were before.  I am resentful of this.  I am jealous of this.  It hurts.

My house continues to be empty with the only sound being the ticking of the clock.  There is no laughter filling the air; just memories that float through my mind.  There is no one here to greet me at the end of a long day, to pick me up, or just give me a hug.  There are just pictures of what was my happy, love-filled family.  The three of us...me, Ed, and Dan...reminders of the things we did together, the happy times.  The past.

But life moves on and although some tell me I can leave my tree up year round if I really wanted to, I'm too much of a perfectionist and control freak to allow that.  So the decorations are now all down and packed away for another year.  Another year where I will try to live this life of mine without the love of my life.  Without my anchor to keep me grounded; without my rudder to help steer me in the right direction.

Maybe next Christmas will be different.  But then again, maybe not....