There's never enough time. For years now, I've wanted to spend Christmas in the States with my cousin's family. her mother felt like the closest person to my mother left, our connection essentially that of family in a way I don't feel with my siblings or father.
We've talked about it, since my mother died, renting a house in Vermont for Christmas. I think I posted about how I felt looking at last year's Christmas photos, my aunt's glowing Christmas house. I wanted to be there so much, to feel in the middle of family, with a loving mother holding it all together.
But my husband's job was always busiest at Christmas, my daughter's granny would miss her, we never had the cash. Next year, next year, next year.
I just got a phone call from my cousin a couple hours ago, my aunt Sue somehow died in her sleep last night. My cousin is a couple months pregnant with her second child.
I left it too late. Oh god, I never sent her the photos of my kids in the blankets she made, I've been meaning to do it for a year now.
I'm so sorry. That was a little thing, I could have done it. I'm so sorry.
And I know just how my cousin is feeling, and I wish it wasn't so, I wish I could protect her from this horrible, horrible grief and make things different.
We're too young. It's too hard, to be the mother who makes the Christmas. I'm sorry, Weeshie, if you're reading, this post is about me, I know. We have to be it all now, we don't have a choice.