Remembering Christmas Past

people always say the year of firsts are the worst. the first mother's day, the first deathaversary, the first christmas...

but it's just not true. on the first christmas, you are braced for impact. the life jackets are on and the rescue boats are ready and waiting. you've fully planned out your days, kept yourself busy, and friends and family check in nonstop to make sure you're ok. the whole thing passes in a weird, strange blur.

but year two? it comes out of nowhere and punches you in the gut. you avoid planning for it because every day you've survived without her hurts so bad that you just avoid thinking about enduring another christmas without her. there are no lifejackets, no exit plans, and no one there to tell you how to push through it. the days don't fly by in a confusing blur. they move like molasses... with every single moment serving as a painful reminder that she really is gone. that this is forever.

year two is remembering christmas past and realizing it will never, ever be the same.