With November now upon us, thoughts naturally turn to the holidays. Used to, October through December was my favorite time of year---little kids, decorating, hot cocoa, excuses to be silly---you know what I mean. But since late last year when my mom began acting in a peculiar fashion, pushing us away, I've had to look at the holidays a bit differently.
Now understand our three daughters are observers and have become quite skilled at sizing up situations. My habit is usually to get pretty worked up when we have guests, wanting everything to be perfect. And while I realize perfection is a toss-up, and depending on who's coming over, I still get nervous. So, this afternoon I was sitting on the porch with the least one, eating my baked potato lunch and we were chatting. I shared with her (now get this, she's only eleven) about how jittery I get when I try to figure out how to handle Thanksgiving and Christmas, now with my mom's odd behavior. She said I'd be a wreck for Thanksgiving if we have my mom over---and strangely enough, whenever we ask my mom for dinner anyway, esp. for a holiday, she makes other plans. So, why this desperation? Not sure, but my inner need to make sure everyone's taken care of. That's the only thing I can figure.
So it appears I'll just give the idea a pass of inviting my mom. Still get jealous of those women my age who either have/had good relationships with their moms---their memories catch at my throat. I wish I had that background, but it's not there, and it's safer to realize that and move along.
Life is too short, and while that's sort of a cliche' thing to say, it is valid. I'd prefer everyone be well and happy, as my dad used to say when I'd ask what he wanted for Christmas. That's seems a bit out of my range, but I can take care of what's right in front of me, and my husband and children are in that set of categories. The rest will just have to be left alone. But guilt? Absolutely go there without any encouragement, but for my family's sake, will try my hardest to let that emotion alone.
