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Is Easter hard for anybody else?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 625551" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Though we would not see difficult child son for long stretches of time once he began using, difficult child daughter always came home for the holidays. She would refuse to sleep in her bedroom. She slept on the sofa in the living room. I can remember being up early to begin preparing for the holiday and just standing there, watching her sleep. She would be bruised and battered and dirty, and I was always so sad.... She wanted to be there with everyone, though.</p><p></p><p>difficult child son, no.</p><p></p><p>So I would miss him in absentia.</p><p></p><p>Man, what our kids do to us.</p><p></p><p>I am very, very sad on every holiday. Each has its own terrible memory, things I would change in a heartbeat if only I could do it.</p><p></p><p>If only I could. </p><p></p><p>It helped me to set a place for my son in my bedroom, in private, where no one could see that I was in mourning. It never seemed right to ignore his absence. Without the kids to ground me, to put purpose and form into what I was doing with all that cooking and cleaning, the holidays feel hollow to this day. They are occasions for sadness, for me. I know and try to prepare for those feelings. It is getting...it is no longer overwhelming. Stabs of regret, of fresh pain over old wounds. </p><p></p><p>I think of your imagery of the cloud and the silver lining, COM. I try to hold that feeling in the face of the loss.</p><p></p><p>But in my secret heart, the holidays are the most punishing times of the year, are the times when everything we lost is a palpable thing.</p><p></p><p>As the years pass, even the tradition of spending those times together has been lost.</p><p></p><p>I never dreamed this would be me.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 625551, member: 17461"] Though we would not see difficult child son for long stretches of time once he began using, difficult child daughter always came home for the holidays. She would refuse to sleep in her bedroom. She slept on the sofa in the living room. I can remember being up early to begin preparing for the holiday and just standing there, watching her sleep. She would be bruised and battered and dirty, and I was always so sad.... She wanted to be there with everyone, though. difficult child son, no. So I would miss him in absentia. Man, what our kids do to us. I am very, very sad on every holiday. Each has its own terrible memory, things I would change in a heartbeat if only I could do it. If only I could. It helped me to set a place for my son in my bedroom, in private, where no one could see that I was in mourning. It never seemed right to ignore his absence. Without the kids to ground me, to put purpose and form into what I was doing with all that cooking and cleaning, the holidays feel hollow to this day. They are occasions for sadness, for me. I know and try to prepare for those feelings. It is getting...it is no longer overwhelming. Stabs of regret, of fresh pain over old wounds. I think of your imagery of the cloud and the silver lining, COM. I try to hold that feeling in the face of the loss. But in my secret heart, the holidays are the most punishing times of the year, are the times when everything we lost is a palpable thing. As the years pass, even the tradition of spending those times together has been lost. I never dreamed this would be me. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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Is Easter hard for anybody else?
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