The holiday season, take 2…

This is the second holiday season, and it seems to be hitting a lot harder than the first.

Last year was the year of the absolute worst dumpster fire ever. And that cluster cuss consumed all of 2020 Into 2021.

In a way I guess that was a good thing. Everything was so discombobulated, I didn’t know what was up, down, or turned around. Thanksgiving was on the back patio of boca vista. Just the Strocks, benton, and I. Very clearly missing Trey, but everything of 2020 was a mess…distracting in the weirdest way.

2021 when everything started opening back up, and life resuming was a huge slap in the face. Suddenly 2020 seems lost. I remember it, but I can’t pinpoint dates, or people, or events. And usually I can remember the most random things. 2020 is there. But it’s a blur, a total blur.

It all starts with Trey. I know he passed on March 18. I’ll never forget that, ever. Just standing in the shower not sure what to do, scared beyond everything. Lunch appeared, I was not hungry at all, I was sick. But, it was chicken fingers, all I could think was oh no. trey doesn’t like these. Who got chicken fingers? And I was so worried about getting treys clothes together.

I had his suit ready, with the tie he wore to Frank, Mary Ann, and Hazels Funerals. It was his funeral tie. But, of course I didn’t want him to stay in those clothes. True to Trey I had his comfy clothes to change into. I didn’t know what was what. I didn’t know where my place was. If I had any say in anything anymore. So, I asked.

I can not explain that feeling of being totally lost, and consumed in irrational and paralyzing fear. I was totally lost, completely scared, and didn’t know what was going on.

As soon as I heard there would be no service I went into this weird ‘this is not happening’ phase. It was all so surreal. Disgustingly covid surreal.

That day is when I really realized what Covid was. It was a Wednesday, and there was no one in Charleston, it was eerily silent. My mom had to fly out the very next morning because we were afraid of the airports closing. Like all of 2020 it all happened so fast. Everything in an instant, and then NOTHING.

Tiger King - seems like it was so long ago, the election seems two or three years ago, along with Jan 6 at the Capitol, years ago. We were finally able to take Trey to mepkin abbey in June of 2020. But that too seems like it didn’t happen.

Covid just screwed with everything. I was so hurt, but all numb at the same time is that makes an sense. An awkward feeling.

So last year the holidays were weird…they were there, but not there.

This year it all seems to be hitting hard, and new. I constantly tell myself, this is not the first year, but in many many ways, it is. We were going to head up to Maryland to go camping for thanksgiving, but benton wrecked the car, and it’s still being fixed. Phyllis is waiting on new hinges, everything that could go wrong has. So, we are staying home for thanksgivin. Alone, and quiet. That just feels odd. But, it’s happening.

And, Christmas is coming up. Normally this week and weekend I would be transforming the house. Every room, in every way. Here it is Wednesday before thanksgiving, and I can’t even think about it. I don’t want to get rid of anything, but, I also don’t want to see it.… Does that make any sense? Our Christmas is 100% memories. Nothing new, all collected at special times, or family stuff. It’s all memories wrapped in tissue paper, and I don’t feel like I can handle them this year. It all seems to be a lot more real this year, a lot clearer, and right there.

It all seems bizarre, but it makes total sense to me. Last year was, a total year of ???, this year the reality is on full swing.

It’s like 2020 never happened. Yesterday I got a freeze warning on my phone, so I was getting dressed to walk up to the monster to run the water…something we have done for YEARS. It wasn’t until I couldn’t find the keys that I realized there was no more monster. When that reality hits, it always knocks me down. The reality of what’s happened is just too much.

I still don’t let benton come home between 530, and 6. Because that sound always triggers every memory and thought.

How does one ever get past these feelings? Do they? Everything seems so empty, and meaningless.

Just reminds me, never think your through the entire grieving process.

It’s never-ending…

Happy Thanksgiving 🦃

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