Christmas is over and it is almost time to ring in a new year. If you can’t feel my excitement, it’s because there isn’t any. Not interested in the least. The only reason the Christmas decorations haven’t been taken down yet is because I’m tired. The hardest thing for me to admit is that the pictures in head and the memories I want to recreate have been dashed by age, loss, loved ones who moved out of state. You name it. It depresses the hell out of me. So much so, that I may just change my Christmas traditions and do something radical. I don’t want a three person celebration any more; I want our three to get together with our other four, and our other two and so on and so on. Its a selfish feeling, but that is where it is.
This holiday, I tried, I really did. I baked all the goodies I could think of. In the back of my mind though, I just knew. This is the second year that Christmas has rung hollow for me and for someone who adores this time of year, it has been a struggle. Church; maybe going to church might be the answer for me. Volunteering; I could do that. There has to be some way to bring the magic back. I have an entire year to figure out how to do this. Honestly, if I lose this feeling, the magic and the love of the season, there isn’t much hope for me at all. Dear Diary, I need your help. Your input. Something. Please.