My widow friend Jessica told me she read a book by a man who lost his dad when he was young. In his book, he said Christmas is its own special hell for those who’ve lost someone, because their absence is so obvious then. Boy is that true!
In my past, I was that person who loved Christmas. The song “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” was true for me. I spent the holiday season doing all the traditional festivities and enjoying every minute of it. My husband and I would go to the Christmas parade and sit in the grandstand seats, and I would squeal with joy when Santa and the floats cruised by me. We decorated the house with many Christmas decorations, including a Dickens village and a fresh, beautiful Christmas tree every year. Twice, we even went to the mountains to cut down our own Christmas tree. We had a Santa with reindeer on the lawn, a Santa by the front door, lights on the bushes, giant candy canes hanging from the tree, and toy soldiers leading up to the door. We used only dishes decorated with Christmas themes. We had Christmas sheets, a Christmas bath mat, and Christmas hand towels.
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