Holding it together for the holidays

Some days I wake up feeling pretty good. I think to myself: Yeah, I am totally going to be okay. I am going to get over losing my daughter. I will kick this "grief" thing. Life will go on and I will be happy! Today is not one of those days. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm really quite prepared, save for a few errands that must be run and a few food items that must be prepared. I was out this morning getting bagels and it just hit me. That's what I get for having to sit for 10 minutes to wait for egg bagels to come out of the oven. I had time to sit and think. Time in my own brain. Time without my 3-year-old talkie-talkie-talkie around. Time without the internet or the TV or the radio. And that's when it hit. That's when it always hits--when there is nothing else to distract me from the terrible pain that is losing Addison. I'm just fucking sad. There is no other way to put it. I have so much in life that is good, but I can't stop feeling this terrible sadness and sense of loss. It's a hole in my heart (so cliche, but too damn true) that will never be filled. I love her, I miss her, I want her.

I think Christmas is especially hard because I really enjoy this holiday. I enjoy everything from the tree to the fudge to the lights to the silly socks and corny jewelry. It's so hard right now because of the dichotomy between the incredible Christmas joy I expect to feel and the intense heartache I do feel. In the middle is where I have to stay right now. Feeling nothing. Because if I start to feel anything, it's sadness. And I'm trying to just get through this and not be a crying, emotional mess. As sad as Chris' family is about Addison's death, I don't really think they're comfortable when I'm outwardly emotional. I mean--to be fair--who is? Tonight I will go to the Christmas Eve celebration and accompany the caroling on the piano and enjoy watching Calvin sing "I'm a Little Santa" for Santa. I will eat and drink and try not to get emotional. But I've realized that while trying to stifle my sadness, it stifles everything. Despite that, for today and tomorrow, I hope I can hold it together and just feel.....nothing.