A Christmas Nightmare

She stared at the Christmas decorations. Those hateful happy colors of warm lights. 

The grief 'support' people had given her handouts of how to prepare for the first Holiday without her husband.

Light a candle for your loved one.
Wrap a gift for the loved one and put it under the tree.
Start a new tradition.

How about this, she thought. Cancel the stupid day. Burn the tree, throw out the decorations. Lock the doors and shut off the phones. Go into a cave of sorrow and spend the time in there with the pains and the hurts that came in waves upon waves.

She just turned off her cellphone. Who knew that this Christmas would be so much more special than a normal nightmare? Who knew that she'd be so sick, that she couldn't leave the empty house or have company? 

To top it all off, the texts from two close friends were constant, asking "what do you need?" Her two sons texting to ask how she was feeling?

She bundled up and went out to check on her animals. At least her fever had broken after 4 days of 101F Hell.
The cold air felt good and the dog was running with happy bursts of speed up and down the driveway. Well, she thought follow the dog. Just do it slowly. 

The walk was slow, not her normal pace, but the cool moist air felt good in her lungs. Back at home she and her dog sat on the porch and watched her equine eat their hay. They stayed like that for a long time until she had a coughing fit.

As an afterthought, she turned her phone back on. It started to buzz and ding with notifications. So many notifications. Her first thought was to turn the phone back off.

Merry Christmas!
Happy Holidays!
Happy emoji with Santa Claus!
Photo of family around their tree, smiles!
Merry Merry
and on and on...

Swipe, Swipe, Swipe,

Both of her sons checked in and she quickly typed an update.

Two friends inquired if she wanted them to come over and help with the animals.
"Got it." After all, she was sick, but not dead.

It was the night that got her. 

You see, no brochure tells you what it feels like to sit there in the silent house without the person you are missing. No one tells you how gut wrenching it feels and how you'd do anything within your power to hold his hand one more time. 

Just having another human to sit next to her and be there would have been nice. But the person would just have to be silent and there. Her one son offered. She declined his offer, she didn't want him to get sick.

It's Christmas Eve.

She got off the couch and slowly took the ornaments off the tree and removed the rest of the decorations around the house.  

She left the lights on the Christmas Chair so they can ward off the winter darkness for now.

Maybe next year.
Maybe next year I can try it again.