With the recent death of my Mom, dealing with the Holidays is an emotional ride I can't explain. Thanksgiving was not only difficult, it was a teary blur. I hear I hosted a wonderful meal but it was like I wasn't there at all. I was a huge fake. Everyone worried (except my Dad). My family could not only see but feel my sadness. It runs deep and different than other those I know that have loss a parent. Everyone deals with grief differently, but also, I had this dysfunctional relationship baggage that I am trying to sort out. A lot of guilt and misunderstanding to my grief. I am still trying to fix everything through my Dad... which is a whole different post...
Christmas is upon us.
This year even without the dealing the grief, our plans are a bit different. We are not planning to drag all of the Christmas stuff out. I am not even planning to put the tree up. I am only pulling a few things out. Along with my Christmas containers, I have found a couple of bags of my Mom's Christmas decorations that I salvaged when we moved Dad and condensed their belongings. I barely remember putting them in with mine. But I started going through them today. Among them was this...
My Sis and I would spend hours playing with this. Re-enacting the story of Baby Jesus born in the Manger. The Three Kings, the Shepperd's coming with their gifts. As we grew up we would constantly change the setting stage. I think I preferred them all looking onto Baby Jesus, and my Sis would switch them to look out to us as if it were a play.
Through the years, through the chaos... somehow this Nativity Set was not destroyed or lost. It survived. Much like my Sister Julie, and I.
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