Writing is hard to do right now. I could tell you I have been busy, and that I am exhausted at the end of the day…and both of those things would be true, but the real reason is that I am struggling, emotionally.

So, why am I reluctant to write about that?

I certainly have done so before.  It’s kind of – what this blog is about.

Yesterday afternoon I sat at the bar at The Mooring, a beautiful waterfront restaurant in Newport, with Lynette and Ryan. There were some tears. We laughed at ourselves as we dabbed our eyes with cocktail napkins.

I mean…poor us, crying into our oysters and wine.

I don’t know – maybe that is a big part of my struggle. There is so much abundance around me – nourishment in all forms…

Yet, the fact that I have the time, the money and the wonderful family to indulge in an afternoon like that doesn’t bring back my father. It doesn’t make my mother less sick.

It doesn’t make life less heavy right now.

We left the restaurant, and after walking around Newport awhile with Monica, we went our separate ways. As soon as I got into my car alone, I really let go.

Big, heavy sobs.

I pulled myself together to run a few errands – grocery store, liquor store, pharmacy, picking up one last gift…

I pasted on a smile, but oddly I felt as though every clerk was treating me with kid gloves. They each were kind, but subdued…offering a particularly gentle “Happy Holidays.”

When I got home and looked in the mirror I understood.  It would have been glaringly obvious to anyone who looked at me that I had been crying.

In that moment, taking in my reflection, I actually felt guilty for having subjected the world to my obvious despair – and on Christmas EveEve.

How rude. 

But there it is, isn’t it?

There is an expectation of joy that we place upon the world at this time of year. None of us want to admit when we aren’t feeling in the spirit.

The truth is…

We all have our ups and downs in this rollercoaster of life. When you’re at a highpoint at Christmastime, it is an insanely intoxicating time of year, full of joy and hope.

When you are at a low point, you become a detached witness to the joyful hustle and bustle. You don’t feel a part of it…and that makes you feel all kinds of shitty emotions – ungrateful, guilty, embarrassed...like you don’t belong.

Like you’re at a party you weren’t invited to.

It is that feeling of being lonely in a crowd….of searching the room for your people….

The really-I-am-so-blessed-and-grateful-but-I-am-also-really-sad-and-this-is-not-my-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year people.

Ahh…there you are.

May I sit at your table?

I’ll bring oysters and wine, and lots of cocktail napkins.

My parents, 196?

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