I know I said I’d try to cheer up, I didn’t lie. I’ve been much more cheerful. And those regrets I listed in my post titled Get Me Through December: A Symbolic New Beginning, I’ve let them go, to some extent. But it’s the holidays. And no adult makes it through the holidays without thoughts of loved ones who have passed away, or of childhood lost. I don’t think it can be done.
My regret of not having children weighs heavily on me at this time of year. Perhaps it’s a reasonable thing to think that I might have revisited my childhood as an observer if I’d had children, I don’t know. I know that I miss my own childhood at Christmas.
And I miss my mother. She made my Christmases what they were, not overly sensational, and yet very special. One of the things I miss about Christmases in her presence was her own joy at the season. Her happiness was enough to make me happy as a child. She taught me that lesson of sharing joy.