Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt seh’n

20 Dec

Aisle.

Aisle.

Aisle.

The blank, confused faces of other parents, juggling, searching, questioning.

Too short.

Too whorish.

Too young.

Too old.

Too-jebbus what the FUCK is that?

Too much. Too much stuff. Too much noise.

Too purple.

I hate Christmas.

I’ve only come to hate it recently. It used to rest in my head as “that holiday that will never be enough because you have no mommy, but you’ll try anyway.” but it’s now turned into “No one else cares anyway, so who are you trying to kid?”

I don’t know how to get a house decorated. The tree blows. I bought french cards instead of english and then didn’t get back to the store. My sugar cookies taste like hockey pucks. My children aren’t even excited-if asked, they can muster up a shrug, and all Rosalyn can do is ask where her fucking wedding barbie is (which, if I’m honest “Santa” might return out of spite at this point).

I’m fielding question about whether jesus is real (nope) or angels (no-free will darling, it’s a bitch) while being asked to sing Vivian Silent Night as she drifts off too sleep. My voice catches and cracks with tears on some parts, memory full and lulled by time. She never asks for much, instead climbing up my side telling me she loves me, do I love her? seeking some sort of acceptance and security I don’t even know I can provide, her brown eyes brimming with a hope I’ve seen. Oh I’ve seen it alright.

About 20 odd years ago would be the last time, eyes wide with hope and love and breathless belief in a future I’d want to live through.

My mother had a silver star she had created. It hung on the door every year, red glitter falling off a little each December, but she had made this, and it came out each year. The nativity, always on the mantle, jesus only placed on christmas day, hands out, blank face smiling. We visited the musty houses of the old on Boxing Day.

I don’t have the repeaters-shit, anymore I’ve given up and have trouble getting dinner out for them. I have no sense of security around me, no continuity plan. I don’t have a star for each December, I barely have socks for every day. I can’t provide them with memories that coalesce-I try and give, I try and set an example but…I stand in an aisle in Toys R Us searching for some elusive perfect something and I know…something isn’t what I’m searching for. I’m digging to find that bond, that secure place where my mother and my daughters can be, where it merges into one and I no longer feel guilt or sadness, no longer remember when I stole 2.00 from my mother’s purse and she never knew, no longer beat myself up for rejecting my youngest for so many months after her birth.

An aisle where only full hearts sit, waiting.

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4 Responses to “Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt seh’n”

  1. nessa December 23, 2008 at 1:52 am #

    You are there. And you are their mother. That is what they want and need. Give yourself a break, woman! For real, or I’m coming over there and shaking the beejesus outta you and rambling on about some “not being able to see the forest through the trees” bullshit. Just love them. That’s all any of us can do, and we all know that you love your girls so so so much. They know it, too.

  2. thordora December 23, 2008 at 9:10 am #

    Yeah-I know. Somedays it’s hard to see though.

  3. Marcy December 23, 2008 at 11:04 pm #

    I bet wedding Barbie will be doing some of that with wedding Ken later.

  4. Marcy December 23, 2008 at 11:05 pm #

    Sorry, stupid joke about the (whispers) *f-word*.

    Yes, being there. Loving them. Answering questions as best you can. Meeting the brown gazes. Decorations and such? Not so much important.

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