12.15.05
I was out of my head, that was what they said
Hmmm, it has been a while, I guess.
The Christmas party was nice, we had a good time. For the last week we have been finishing our shopping and wrapping, going to the gym together where I do cardio and Steve plays squash with a friend, making mental lists of what to do before we go home, planning on cleaning the house tonight and packing the car. We leave tomorrow morning at seven a.m. Unfortunately, it looks as though we are going to be driving through a storm until at least Montreal, and flurries at best from then on. I say I want to help with the driving, but I think we both know that not only is Steve a better and more confident driver, he is also much more relaxed.
When we moved here, I packed up all my summer clothes into my trunk except those loose-fitting ones, which I figured would be enough to take to the Dominican with me. Well, turns out only about half of those clothes fit anymore. Yikes. I tried on my bikinis, and I am going to bring them. Steve says I look cute with a little belly popping out (not to mention my boobs filling out the tops a little more, ahem, fully than before) but I am not sure. My parents bought me one from Florida last spring, but it is really skimpy. My plan was to buy a maternity bathing suit anyway, since they are currently on sale at the maternity store in Halifax and very nice (according to my mom) so I will most likely end up bringing four bathing suits. Heh. Really, that is not so bad once you consider that I do not have any shorts that fit anymore. I am resorting to wrap skirts, tank tops, sarongs and sundresses.
I have been really emotional the last few days. Yesterday I had a nasty case of the blues, which I tried to push out of the way so they would not interfere with our day, but even today it does not take much more than the right Christmas carol to push me to the verge of tears. I used to pride myself on keeping my emotions in check for the most part, but being pregnant has really changed that.
Today as we drove home from Wal-Mart and Tims, I looked out the window and thought of my dad. I found myself thinking that we always think that the end will come by a diagnosis of a disease and that while it will not be easy by any means, we will have time to prepare ourselves (is there really a way to prepare ourselves?) for the outcome. But when I think of the man my mom told me about who helped his wife put up the tree, went to bed and never woke up, or the poor boy at RMC who snuck out one night about three weeks ago to go sledding with his friends, hit a tree and was killed. I think about his parents a lot, how they said goodbye to their 18-year-old son in September with no idea that the next time they saw him would be in a casket. It is so easy to take people for granted, but we do not realize often enough that they could slip away faster than the blink of an eye (pardon the cliche).
I guess it is the time of year too, I always think of my family who is not here anymore, who never met Steve and who will never meet my child. I think of the children who do not believe in Santa or the magic of Christmas because Christmas does not come to them because their parents do not have enough money. It breaks my heart. I scrounge my pockets every time I see a volunteer standing beside a Salvation Army bowl, and feel like I could do more than drop in a few pennies and quarters.
At the family dinner my fathers side has every year the Sunday before Christmas, we are all asked to bring a new unwrapped toy to give to those who cannot afford those toys. Steve and I walked through Wal-Mart today and found a bright red sleigh to buy. If I could, I would buy every toy on those shelves, all the teddy bears and dolls and building blocks they had. Can we ever really do enough to help?
Christmas is not a happy time for everyone. My heart breaks for those people who spend it alone, too. No wonder it is the time of year that has the highest suicide numbers. My moms older brother lives alone. He is a janitor at the local mall and lives paycheck to paycheck. She does for him what he lets her, but that is not much. For the longest time, he made excuses to miss Holiday dinners or to return Christmas presents. I always thought that somewhere deep down, he must have felt like he did not deserve those gifts, or the love, I am not sure which. Their sister died five years ago (God, has it really been five years?), and since then, he always comes to Christmas dinner, and he always enjoys the gifts he is given. My mom said once that she had noticed a change in him, that he was more receptive to these things. I said nothing at the time, but realized later that he changed after Janette died. It leaves me believing that somewhere inside he realized that life is short, but the people you love lives may be shorter than yours. And when you are left without them, what do the things you have matter anyway?
I wish there was something I could do for that family from Saskatchewan who lost their son at RMC, because this will probably be the worst Christmas of their lives. I wish there was something I could do for all of those people who are alone.
I am so thankful that my dad is healthy and healing, I am so thankful that my baby is growing and moving inside of me, I am thankful for Steve and his constant love and support, for the way he smiles at me while I ramble on about nothing and interrupts me to tell me he loves me, I am thankful for my mother and my brothers and the rest of my family, too. I am thankful that we are lucky enough to be able to buy a bright red sleigh for a child whose Christmas might be empty without it. I am thankful that although Steve and I will not see each other until Christmas night, that we are not spending Christmas continents apart with him doing a tour in the Middle East.
I may not update again until we get back to Ontario in January, so until then, Happy Holidays to everyone.
wunderwuman at 2:00 p.m.