Can't say goodbye

That time of year is hear again. The Thanksgiving family dinners, the Christmas family gatherings, the New Years family celebrations. These were the happiest of times for me and my husband. He especially loved my home made dressing for the turkey, my christmas ham, and the hotel New Years parties when we spent the night and made it into a romantic weekend getaway. Last year when he passed, I floated through those days in a blur, totally disengaged from the festivities surrounding them. This year won't be any different. I'm holding on to the memories and lamenting the truth that there won't be any more to create.

So that leaves me kinda stuck in this spatial vortex where I'm just swirling around all the past holidays and trying to relive and recall what we did, where we were, who was with us, what stood out that made that one time the most memorable. It hurts my heart to walk past the table and look at the chair he would sit in and recall the vision of him and the sound of his voice as he blessed the table as we all held hands and in unison said Amen. Or, to think about his laughter at watching the kids and later the grandkids excitedly open their presents and run to him with outstretched arms to hug and kiss him while squealing in delight. Or looking into his eyes as we danced the night away welcoming in the New year. Every day is a recall of some beautiful memory of him and I still can't get over losing him. So, I just try to find solace and comfort in the memories as beautiful, yet painful as they are. Because of that, I can't say goodbye. Not now, maybe not ever.