I find myself with tons of words in my head, and not a clue how to get them out. I'm sure I'm not the only one that struggles to get the words from the head to the mouth, or in this instance fingers. The thing that has flowed freely in the last few days are tears.
Every Christmas I feel excited, I feel childlike and carefree. I love the holiday season. It reminds me of peace, love, and lights. The wonder of walking around Dovewood Court with my mom, looking at the thousands of lights. Or the feast. Or the tree. It has never been about presents, or gifts for me. In fact, I asked my ex to not buy me gifts. Looking back on that......perhaps that was a little bit of a mistake. Really, what girl says that? But the things he did give me have much sentimental value. Once I had children, any resource I've had I directed to them.
Even last year, with all the court dates and arrest warrants for my ex..........I got my tree. I decorated. I was festive. I faked it for my girls. This year is quite different. It wasn't until yesterday I finally put decorations up. However, my thought process was: be festive for my girls. What happened was a huge trigger for my daughter. It finally hit home, Daddy won't be here for Christmas.
I held her again, in my arms, while she cried so hard and so deep the upstairs neighbors heard. The gut wrenching moan that came from her little body broke me. The realization that is there NOTHING I can do to make this situation better. Nothing I can do to take away her pain. It was too much. Tears streamed down my face as I wrapped her up in my arms."Everyone has a daddy but ME. Even my divorce friends have daddies. I don't have a daddy, he's gone forever!!!!" she shouted at me.
As a parent, I think we strive to protect our children. None of us want our children to experience pain, even tho it's a part of life. How do you comfort a child with a broken heart? I haven't figured it out. In fact I'm clueless.
She doesn't need someone to take his place, but she needs answers. Answers she can't possibly understand. I have them, but I can't tell her. I feel like I'm holding secrets, but I do it to protect them. Soon enough they will know the truth. But how can a 7 year old understand the mental breakdown her father had? Most adults don't even get it.
So the one gift my children want, I can't give them. No amount of logic will change the guilt I feel about this. I would do anything to bring him back sane and safe. It would truly take a Christmas miracle for that to happen.
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