Making Lemonade ...or at least squeezing the lemons

After a dinner at Gyu Kaku last night with husband and friend Timmy which included them drinking 2.75 bottles of Sake and 2 beers each, an unavoidable trip to the Christmas tree lot accompanied by two drunkards trying to sell me on the idea of rearranging our living room furniture to fit an 8ft tree, to a screaming match with said drunk husband that lasted until 3am, I concluded that {not only should my husband not intake more than one bottle of Sake} but that my self-induced holiday misery had more to it than meets the eye . . .er, met the eye.


I think I realized that some of the doom and gloom I have felt towards Christmas for the past five years has more to do with my father and less to do with the "no house, no baby blues" than I'd like to admit. {cringe}

But don't you think it's much easier to blame everything on superficial things and have-nots therefore avoiding dealing with actual pain? - Me too!

But at around 1:43am while angrily trying to fall asleep a vision entered my mind, a memory if you will, which set off an uncontrollable fit of tears and hiccups. I stomped back downstairs to start it up again with my husband and within minutes realized the big tears came streaming down only when my dad popped into my head.

Here's the short version
My parents divorced when I was eleven. My brother and I would spend every other weekend with our father. When I was about 15, dad moved to Vegas because he caused a car accident on a suspended license and would have gone to jail had he not run. From that time on, I only saw him on Christmas and usually spoke with him on my birthday in June. He died in March 2003 and the last time I really saw him prior to one visit in the hospital, was Christmas.

There are so many emotions wrapped up and around my dad and clearly they have taken over my Christmas spirit as well. I'm not exactly sure how to deal with them as I dislike "dealing" with everything and would rather just avoid the pain. However, to move on and not get depressed year after year during the holiday season, I am going to have to figure out how to "deal" with this asap. As AA members will attest, the first step is admitting you have a problem.

And even though I did sound like a spoiled brat complaining about a truly blessed life, at least the "no house, no baby blues" was the catalyst to self-discovery and hopefully a road to healing.

Thank you for all your kind comments.

...and happy holidays.