My day didn’t start out as I’d hoped for Christmas Eve. I didn’t sleep well and ended up moving to the guest room so I didn’t keep Mr. FixIt awake all night, too. No need for both of us to be sleep deprived. I laid there awake for hours and…when I’m awake, the motor’s running. My brain, to be exact. When I finally would drift off to sleep, I had nightmares that superimposed Mr. Virgo’s death and Mr. FixIt. I awoke in a sweat each time only to drift off again and take up where I left off. I finally woke up for good around 10:00 and felt lousy. The last thing I wanted to do was cook scallops and lamb chops. I asked my sweetheart if he would mind holding off the celebratory Christmas Dinner till tomorrow. My husband, being the most wonderful man on the planet, rolled with the punches and was fine with that. He is so flexible and patient with me. This is the nature of PTSD and grief. Some days are good…some aren’t. Yesterday didn’t start out good.
However…I was bound and determined I was going to lift up out of that blue funk and still enjoy the day, even if it entailed a lot of self care. I looked at the Weather App and it was closing in on 60 degrees by 1:00 here in our little neck of the woods. West Virginia had a rare White Christmas last year. So, of course…it will be springlike with rain this year! I walked into the family room and told Mr. FixIt I had a plan. I was going to go out to the camper and hang out for a little quiet time and recharge.
I was amazed at the number of dead flies and ladybugs in there! It’s the country, and campers aren’t airtight. I took the Dustbuster out and swept up and cleaned out the refrigerator and cabinets of any food items. I should have done that a couple months ago, but just didn’t get around to it. Once the place was clean, I climbed in my bed, pulled a pile of covers over me and sunk down in…breathing a sigh of relief.
I love camper time. I especially needed it yesterday and it was like medicine. I curled up and read and just soaked in all that camper goodness. It’s like the playhouse I never had as a kid. The treehouse. The blanket fort. It’s small and cozy and smells like the woods. It soothes me. I drank bottles of water and felt so much better in a couple of hours. I went back inside and greeted my sweetheart. I sat down to knit. He puttered outside for a bit then made a batch of Peanut Butter Blossoms.
The house soon smelled like peanut butter and chocolate. Another area of lights burned out on the tree. There’s only a couple small gifts under it. My cousin and aunt called me from Nevada to wish us a Merry Christmas. I had video chats with the Colorado families. I ate a little. And before I knew it…I felt so much better…so much lighter. As I talked with Daughter #2, she asked how I was holding up. I was honest and told her everything. Then I apologized and said I’d be better soon. She motioned me to come closer to the camera.
“You are grieving. It’s ok to feel all the feels. Sadness, anger, anxiety…all of it. Do not apologize for feeling your feelings.” She’s right, of course. Smart girl. It’s a little harder to practice what you preach sometimes, isn’t it? At any rate, I felt so much better after connecting with my people. Today is a new day. It might be good. It might not. But it’s a day, and it’s what we got, and I know I can close my eyes at any moment and ask Jesus to come walk with me awhile. To lift me up and make me stronger to do the things that need to be done. It’s His Birthday today, and I can’t think of a better way to spend it than quietly. Paring everything back to the basics has been so healing this year. And, isn’t that’s what it’s all about?
Just…love.
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“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
Luke 2:11 ESV