Posted by: sulya | 19 October 2009

Christmas Gifts: Strangely, this is Maybe the Most Difficult Post I’ve Ever Written…

christmas1So, last year, just a few months after my relationship divided itself into two homes, my sister’s did the same.  She’d been with her mate longer than I had been with mine and they too have a child who is two and half years older than the boyo.

This was a hard time for me and for my sister, obviously, but it was a hard time for our whole family as well.  My parents will have been married for 50 years in November and both their daughters were suddenly – in one fell swoop really – “divorced”.  These things are complicated.  On the whole – because we all love each other very very much – we muddle through but there are rough times.

Misunderstandings.  Edginess.


And the scheduling of things has become even more frenzied than it was.  Last year – so that we would not get trapped out of sync in perpetuity – we set things up so that the “grandkids” (i.e. the boyo and his cousin) would be together for the actual day of Christmas every other year.  I went to Vancouver with the kidlet and we dealt with the comings and goings of my sister’s ex and my sister’s new man and had a pretty decent time of it – as stressed as we all were in a way, as new as it all was.

christmas3After that week, I gave my son to his dad and I had a week alone.  I was scared of that week.  Fought it for a while.  Didn’t want to be alone for that long without my son or anyone really because of the time of year.  But my lost orca-ring set me straight and I didn’t run from my demons to some place far away or far away and into the arms of someone who wasn’t sure he could catch me – no matter how much I wanted to.  I spent some time with a good friend.

I spent a lot of time alone.

christmas4At a certain point I caught myself looking at pictures of my son when he was an infant.  I even looked at pictures of him when he was just a few weeks old and there were still bruises up and down both my arms from the seven blown veins the anesthesiologist gave me trying to get an IV line in…  I had been labouring for nearly 30 hrs by the time he was set to work on me – it was hot – my veins were terribly dilated – it wasn’t really his fault and the fact that everything was dilated made the epidural easy – no problems or complications there and I am quite sure that my son might be dead (he had the cord around his neck) if I had not gotten that epidural and he and I were finally given someone and machines to monitor us both.  I was passing out between contractions right before the epidural kicked in – dreaming of the Little Match Girl and seeing my father clear as day from the perspective of a child in those blackouts… A few bruises on my arms and some post-partum madness was a small price to pay for my son healthy and in my life…

christmas5Anyway.  Not easy to look at those pictures.  I hadn’t looked at them in ages.  I hadn’t looked at some of them really ever.  And last December I had spent months more at a remove from things than I ever had before in my life.  Numb.  I looked at picture after picture.  Of my beautiful, beautiful baby…  And I thawed.  And I wept.  And wept and wept.

With love.

So much love.

christmas6All the love I’d felt when he was born but was too sad and messed up to give him – all the love that I have ever felt for anyone or anything just pouring out of me onto my computer screen and into my past… I realized that it had all been there even through the crazy.  I HAD given it to him… Lavished it upon him… I was just too broken and numb to FEEL it going out to him…  I healed myself retroactively by looking at those pictures.  Brought that beautiful baby and his sad, sad mother up into the present and healed us both in a way.

So, that week by myself after last Christmas was crucial.  A turning point.  Agony but so important.  I can trace pretty much every single one of the good things in my life right now to that moment of release – that moment of uncaging my love and passion from sadness, depression and 12 years of the oppression of being in the wrong place with the wrong person.

christmas7But the thing is – it’s almost been a year and Christmas is coming up fast and this year I do not have my son for Christmas.  I also will probably not be flying to see my family until after Christmas so that the grandkids can be together for a bit.  My sister is near-frantic making plans to work this out with her ex, the new man and his kid… It’s madness.

But me?  I will probably be alone for the actual days of Christmas Eve and Christmas for the first time in my life.  There is tremendous freedom and isolation in this.  I mean I could really, truly be ALONE for that holiday and it’s a strange feeling.  I don’t feel like wanting to get away this year would be running, either.

And I can’t really afford it, but I’ve started looking at vacation packages to sunny places for a few days cuz why not?  Nothing to lose by looking – fantasizing.  Turns out the prices don’t change if you go as a single.  Everything is geared to couples.  Just the way it is.


And the thing is, this year I truly believe I’ve earned it.  I’ve earned some sunshine.  I’ve earned a man who knows he can catch me.  Who reaches out for me before I’ve even leapt.  I deserve that.  I want and crave that.  I deserve that and so much more.

Yeah.  Me.  I deserve that and so much more and I want to give that and so much more.

And I want a beach.  And sunshine.

But if I don’t get it, I’ll be okay.  I have my two kitties.  I have books and journals to read.  I have words I might write.  I’ve never had a hard time filling my time.

I just know it wouldn’t be running FROM something this time.  It wouldn’t be running at all.  It would be a break.  A release.  A real vacation even.

I just know that I want to take new pictures. Of new people.  And new places.

Who knows.  I might need them some day.



  1. I’m trying to think of something to say that’s a little more insightful than “Christmas scheduling, like, totally sucks”, but maaaaaaaaaan…when I see those pictures all that comes to mind is a giant girlish “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”.

    What a beautiful happy baby.

  2. SQUEEEEEEEE! Is a good sound and I thank you for it.

    Perhaps if we flip it around to EEEEEEEUQSSS! Then we might have a sound to go with how it feels to schedule things “holiday”?

  3. […] So.  In my fishing around for holiday travel possibilities so as to celebrate my new life on my first Christmas holiday without my son and without my own […]

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