I went out to dinner with my husband last night. Just the two of us. I spent the entire day at home working on my marketing plan. I was tired and kind of cranky. And I was really bored with myself. So we went to one of our favorite places, and I drank Jameson and Ginger and started to feel, well not better, but not so dejected.
I was trying so hard to figure out why I was in such a funk…to which my husband said, “yeah, why are you in such a funk?” So, it was established. I was in a funk….for some days I think.
And so after those Jameson (yeah I had more than one….) and some teary chat over dinner with my husband, I realized, I think I’m just grieving. I’m sad. Since this past spring, my darling, sweet mother-in-law and my sassy, Aussie aunt died within about six months of each other. And although one was 96 and the other 90, I’m sad. I’m not sad for them. Although one was ready to go and the other clearly NOT, which made it harder, they lived good long lives and lots of people loved them and they loved lots of people (which was evident by the throngs of people at both those nonagenarians’ funerals).
So I’m sad. It’s the start of the holidays and I’m sad. My dinner table guests are changing over time, and this year is just one more sad reminder. I don’t want to clean my house, or cook a turkey, or work on a marketing plan. I just want to be sad. It seems like that’s what I should be doing. Of course, I realize that the way to get OUT of a funk is to DO something.
Maybe sometimes we should just respect the sadness.
Cause sometimes, you just have to cry……..
Cathy Sikorski
Cathy,
Sometimes it’s the memories of the events that help carry on and enhance the tradition.
Try and remember some of the funny things that happened during the preparation of your holiday dinners. For example, your mother in law, Marie, making a huge production out of boiling the giblets to make “soup” for the dog, or your Aunt Jean chopping celery and shaking the house off the foundation because her hearing aids were not turned on, and she couldn’t hear how loud she was.
They may not be physically at your table, but they are with you, watching over your cooking and commenting on “that’s not how I would do it, but it’s your dinner.”
J
HAHA Thanks, sweetie, you should have your own blog!
“Tough”, for sure; “old”, no way! I firmly believe that tears cleanse the soul. I’m sure you’ve heard, “Sometimes you need to be weak to be strong.” We’re at that age my dear friend when so many of our lifelong traditions are changed because our loved ones who were so much a part of the traditions are gone from this life. Just keep in mind it is only their physical beings that are gone. They live on in each of us as we continue the traditions with different and often younger folk around us. Sometimes I weep when I make my mother’s mashed potatos; sometimes when I look at a holiday decoration that was hers; sometime on the golf course (for heaven’s sake) when I think of my Dad making a 30′ putt. But, then I move on and smile, grin, and sometimes even chuckle that I’m such an emotional softie. I’d have it no other way! Actually, I think all that makes me the tough and stable man I’ve become. Notice I left the “old” out of that description, and please leave “stable” alone. Cry as much as you need to, but remember you need to smile, grin, and laugh too … that’s what they would want. Happy Thanksgiving! Love, Milk Money Mike 🙂
O Milk Money Mike,
I so adored this answer. Every phase of life has that “kicking and screaming” part, doesn’t it? Hard to believe there
was a time when we didn’t want to go to bed or take a nap, right? Thanks so much for your kind and insightful words. I so love that my
blog is connecting me to those I have loved and not lost. Happy Thanksgiving! Love, Cathy
TEARS.. GOOD WRITING CATHY … I have expressed that we the readers need to know there are pieces of your HEART that are forever gone with the loss of your loved ones. THEY FIILED YOUR HEART and now they’re gone.
Sent from my iPad
You are right my friend. Sometimes a good cry is necessary.
Yea…methinks you speak truth and wisdom.
You’re a tough old broad, though. You’ll bounce back soon! 🙂
Never thought I’d actually ENJOY being called a tough old broad!