humbug

I'm having a terribly difficult time getting into the christmas spirit (or holiday spirit, for those of us who can't let go of being politically correct). I've been wondering this: As I get older, is it just that I know more people and have experienced more time so the odds of seeing sadness in the lives of those I love is greater? Or is it that when you're younger, you are just so focused on the clean, new lines of the innocence of a hopeful future that you skip right on over any cracks or stains - that you just don't notice reality? Have I selectively forgotten? This doesn't seem so likely - I think I just never noticed, or never chose to notice in the first place.

DH's brother is not doing well. There is no official diagnosis in yet, but I don't have much hope that anything other than aggressive pancreatic cancer is going to be in our vocabulary for the next few years. I've been focused on the fact that he has no insurance, so I've been researching ways for him to find a way to healthcare as a way of not having to think about the fact that he has a very bad kind of cancer and it is possible/likely that he is going to die in the next few years. There are so many of my loved ones who are going through their individual hells right now - if you read this and think I'm talking about you, I probably am, but along with about ten others, and I'm not exaggerating on the numbers. There is so much sadness and despair out there in the lives of people I love right now.

I'm hoping this is a fluke and a phase, and that the sine curve will turn back up soon. I hope this isn't a preamble to what it's going to be like to be middle-aged. I'm not sad in a teary, sniffing way - I'm just tired, and I don't want to stay like this.

I crawled into bed beside Q a little bit ago, to just hold onto him and feel his strong little body and feel his warmth. It's a good thing that he sleeps like a log - poor kid. I'd snuggle up next to my E too, but her bed is so littered with books and magazines and stuffed animals that it would be painful for me. DH fell asleep on the little couch and I don't want to wake him, so I suppose I'll let him spend the night cramped up and make the crick in his neck even worse. Me, I think it's time to go lay on my big bed and force my mind into dreams and daydreams of love and happy endings.

There are some good, fun things coming up for me so hopefully I won't be in such a funk for long. I have a date with my friend Deborah for wine at a fancy smanshy place on Wednesday, we're caroling in the neighborhood on Friday, and Saturday will be christmas eve with a service at UU where my kids will perform in the choir, and a get-together with wonderful friends at David and Deborah's house afterwards. Santa will be making an appearance too. Surely all this will lift my spirits, right?