Wednesday, December 27, 2006

I guess I should write about Christmas.

You know, people who have been there, done that, will tell you things. Like people telling me that the holidays would be hard. And since we have a heads up, we think we will be prepared. We are never prepared.

I used to sometimes wonder how I would react if Marissa died before me. I knew it would be awful, horrible, difficult to deal with. It is actually horrendous, horrific, and unspeakable. Those are the closest words I can think of. There truly are no words.

So I was expecting a somewhat difficult Christmas. What I got was utter chaos, with me yelling much more than I wanted to or probably should have; children screaming and hitting and fighting and thinking of nothing more than getting to the next present. My MIL even threw a small fit via email when we failed to call her within the time window she expected. So I was very angry about that~ angry that I am supposed to fluff up people's egos when I am trying to get through my first Christmas without my daughter.

Two days before Christmas (I think, or was it three?) the van was sideswiped. Then dh called from a pay phone at 12:30am to tell me the car broke down as he was getting off the freeway and he forgot his cell phone. He told me not to go get him because all the kids would have to get up, so he would walk. An hour later he called again and asked me to call him a cab because he was getting blisters on his feet. So the next day was spent using money that doesn't exist for us to get the stupid car off the road before it got impounded. This is why the MIL phone call didn't happen "on time". I replied very sweetly to her email~ we love you a lot, we aren't blowing you off, etc. Puke. WHY would I have to do that? This makes me very angry. Yes, I do love her, if you are wondering, but give me a freaking break.

Not everything was bad. There were nice and wonderful things. I guess I need to wallow in my anger for now. Cause I am pissed. My daughter is not supposed to be dead. You are not supposed to die when you are eight years old. Period.

1 comment:

Christine said...

Girl hang in there. I cant imagine what you must be going through but I know that in time your anger will subside slightly and things will get easier. I have no idea how much time but it will happen.