What are the holidays supposed to be about? Christmas is all about togetherness and peace on earth and good will towards men. But sometimes in the effort to make the perfect Christmas perfect all of that seems to be lost in hub and bub.
This year I really only one goal. To help my best friend to get through probably what will be the worst Christmas ever. Except for maybe last year. She lost her dad to botched transplant surgery and even though she has been feeling her way through the year and trying to get through it the 23rd will be a crappy day no matter how you cut it.
What makes this especially hard for me is that my depression of my bipolar disorder seems to like rear its ugly head this time of year and 'faking it out' is especially hard. So this Friday I'm making a meal of her choice and giving her one of her presents. I know the day will be difficult for her, honestly, I miss him too. Harold was a great guy who loved his family very much.
No one is perfect, but Harold was the guy who could tell you what was wrong with your car, and up until a lemon of a Grand Am he worked on Missy's vehicles. Next to me he was her best friend and like any father, the one you measure others against (well, the good ones anyway).
This weekend I will be surrounded by my mom and dad, and they are the ages of Missy's parents. I worry now. I watched how quickly things can go from 'he's coming home' to 'he's never coming back'. So I'm here even though I'd rather be at home hiding. Although I don't know how much of that is the bipolar disorder and how much of that is really I want to be hiding.
Then Sunday I have a small dinner party with Pamela Turner and Missy Goodman. YAY! Much to do to get ready for that. I do better in smaller groups.
So I am grateful for what this last year has brought, new friends, book contracts and the itch to write more.