This year is different. For so many reasons. My body appears to be somewhat healed but my mind, well that's where it gets tricky. To say I jumped on the Christmas bandwagon is an understatement, I couldn't wait to get the tree up and fill the house with anything red/gold/tartan/things that twinkle, I have a "Santa stop here" sign, and penguins that appear to be skiing down my stairs. I also shopped, and shopped, and shopped. I had the best time, some days I would just wait for the post woman to come as I'd forgotten what I'd ordered and that in itself was quite fun. I even brought mince pies to leave out on Xmas eve.
I loved seeing everyone's pictures of fake Santa footprints, reindeer food, naughty elves, all the presents neatly placed under the tree. I loved seeing the kids faces when they opened their presents, the sheer excitement, not knowing what to open next, wanting to stop and play but also wanting to open some more. Then it hit me.
I will never need to put out a carrot for Rudolph, there will be no Santa boot stencil in our house, why exactly did I buy those mince pies? There's no little people waking up every hour to check if it's time to get up. It must be magical.
I try not to think about the future too much, well unless it creeps into my head. But it's hard not to at this time of year, new year. New start? Better year? What if it's more shit? What if 2016 is the same, or worse than 2014/2015, what if it's no different? What is there to look forward to? Hospital appointments? Scans? Results? Treatment? Anxiety? More bad news? More uncertainty?
I look at other people, I find myself staring, sometimes in a daze and not really listening to what they're saying. I envy them, all of them. Their lives, their jobs, their well fitting clothes, their homes, their rings, their families, their bumps, their hair, their bodies, their ability to be carefree, their sparkly eyes, eyes that aren't filled with sadness.