Comfort and Joy

Lots of presents...

We got through Christmas…

We really did very well. We opened presents and had a good time. We deviated from tradition in a couple of ways, but no one seemed to mind. Sara worked tirelessly, opening almost all of Lily’s presents (I hate the way they package things these days. You need a saw and bolt cutters to get into things.)

I was so proud! Even full of myself. We are SUPERGIRLS I thought! We did it!

We had a nice dinner, finished off the brownies, had settled down to some tv and snoozing when all hell broke loose.

Lily cracked.

Suddenly she was very, very upset. I don’t know what started it, a smell, a memory, a stray thought? But she became irate with Sara and me, telling me I loved Sara best and she wanted to go back to when it was just me and George and her. “Didn’t you like that better?” she asked me.

I blinked. Direct hit.

She yelled at Sara, told her to go home. “You don’t live here!” she said. “Go home! We are okay without you!”

Sara blinked. Direct hit.

Well, Sara ended up upstairs in her bed, crying.

Lily and I talked for a while and I reminded her how much Sara has done for her. I told her how hurtful her words were. She went upstairs and came back down hysterical. “She’s crying! I saw tears! She hates me! She told me she wants some alone time! Alone time! Alone time!”

Oh Lord.

“I’m so ashamed of myself!” Lily was inconsolable. “Remember when Dad died and I cried so much I threw up? I’m going to throw up,” she moaned. “Please, please don’t throw up,” I said. I really meant it. Don’t throw up.

More stuff to open!

I went up and talked to Sara and she was fine, a little weepy, but just really, really tired. Opened too many presents. I blame the manufacturers.

Lily came up and jumped in Sara’s bed and kissed her and we all hugged and laughed a little bit. Crisis over.

Then we realized Simon was lost. He’d had a  long day of  playing with three dogs and checking out all the boxes and trash. Too much interaction for one little bunny.

After an extensive search we found him under the bed in Lily’s room and he wasn’t coming out. I tried to lure him with carrots. He grabbed the carrot and shrunk against the wall, just out of reach. It went on and on through several carrots (him) and a lot of under-the-breath cursing (me).

Simon the biting bunny

Finally I had to use Lily’s pop rifle to shoo him out. I got him and he BIT me. (Never does this, he was Christmassed out! Or he thought my fingernail was a carrot. Okay, he bit me. ) I dropped him. I started crying.

Sara got out of bed and came in and leaned over and just picked him right up (this after I spent thirty minutes with the carrots.)

So we put him in his cage and I went to bed to nurse my sore finger and my feelings.

Me and Sara

Did I like it better when it was just me and George and Lily? Honestly? Of course I did. Just don’t want to say it out loud because what we are building now with Sara here to help is going to be our family for the near future and I don’t want to malign it. It is what we have, and I do love having Sara here and she is adding something for Lily that is vital. She makes her feel like there’s still back up. She makes me feel that way too. But its hard for all of us, and Sara has to be wondering where its all going for her.

Lily

Now its the day after and we’re downstairs eating leftovers and watching tv. Lily has excavated some rocks from her rock hound kit and is now playing with her Nintendo DS and bugging Sara like always to watch her every move. We’re surviving. Sara is numbing out with date movies (I recommend this highly when you’re down) and I’m writing here. Another day in a long line of days since it happened. We’re working on it. Looking for our happiness where we can get it. Leaning on each other.

Tired. Sort of like we’ve been through a war.

Wary. We know there’s still a lot of strife ahead.

Surviving.

Related posts:

1. Mother’s Work
2. Numb Dee Dum Dum
3. Living the Fairytale
4. The Building Begins
5. Swan Dive

Tagged as: christmas, crying, george maddox, grief, lily maddox, lisa maddox, SARA BYRD, single parent, widow