Working six days in a row this week has preoccupied my mind and made me physically exhausted, leaving little room for actual thinking besides the dreaded: “what should I make for dinner?”
I really love working hard, and now I’m starting to reap the benefits of exercising three days a week for almost four months. I think it took me three months to fully have endurance, strength, and flexibility again to the point where I wasn’t out of breath or sweating profusely.
I still have a long way to go to where I want my body to be physically, but I am so proud of what I’ve accomplished so far.
And as I revel in my new found abilities, I’ve wondered why somber thoughts haven’t crossed the threshold between my brain and my heart.
You know the saying be careful what you wish for? Well….I didn’t wish for it, but I certainly jinxed it, and the sadness took over me on Friday.
It started at work. Luckily I was alone in the back room that day, so I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Although I do have some amazing empathetic coworkers. That’s one of the main reasons why I came back to work there.
Most of the time I can’t hear the music with all the hustle and bustle, but one song caught my attention. We have finally started playing Christmas music.
After fourteen years of retail I really dread the same carols that play right after Halloween every year. And yet I love carols. Actually I love to sing them acapella with a four-five part harmony.
One of the versions of “I’ll be home for Christmas” started playing, and I realized what the holidays are truly going to be like.
I will never have a Christmas with the girls.
I fully believe they are here in spirit of course and will always be with me. But that will never compare to physically embracing them and watching them grow into their own to experience the world on their terms.
Again though, I stopped myself from processing this thought. Sucking back the tears to get through the last hour of the work day.
Maybe its too hard for me to fathom the duality of what could have been and what really is.
At the very least I commend myself for feeling something rather than becoming an emotionless void.
That I’m still capable of mourning my girls between the days when my mood is outstanding and untouchable.
What really strikes a chord is talking about the girls with my mom. She is a fierce and mighty woman who doesn’t let very many people in behind her walls. I know her as this incredibly caring and astute person who is just as heartbroken about her grandchildren as anyone could be.
So when she cries, you feel it. Those tears come from the deepest recesses of a heart trying to hold itself together but not knowing how.
Handling my emotions with the holidays coming closer and rearing their joyful abundance is something I can only deal with one day at a time. As arduous as this is for me, there is a burden that my family will carry through all of this as well.
I enjoy this time of year but its the first one without my twins, so inevitably this will be difficult.
Join me on my path back to hope~