The Hole From My Father
October’s over! It’s the beginning of the end.
For too long, all I did was give gifts, eat, and drink my way thru November and December.
I hate the holidays. I really do.
Every year I dread them, and I can’t wait for the season to end. Then I can go on with my life.
Why do I do this? I torture myself every year.
I think it started with the death of my father. Hell, I know it did. I wasn’t even 12. I never got over it.
I yearn for the days when my family felt perfect and seemed normal.
It’s sad. It’s depressing. It even makes me mad.
When Dad died, it tore everything apart. My whole family scattered in pieces. I have family I haven’t seen since. All these people I don’t even know.
And my immediate family, my sisters? They’re great. We’re close. But we still feel distant. There are a lot of miles between us. Or at least that’s the way it feels to me. I think maybe they feel the same? I don’t know. And for some reason, I don’t ask them.
It’s been this way my whole life, and most of it’s my fault. I drank heavily for so many years. I didn’t come around. I didn’t call. I guess I was trying to forget, and act like it didn’t bother me, when really it was tearing me apart.
I remember it well. I thought I had a perfect childhood. And maybe I did? Or maybe I didn’t?
I know this is normal. I think everyone feels this way to some degree. You lose someone or something, and it’s never the same. You never get over it. You try to live with it. Replace it with something else. But it keeps popping up, over and over and over again.
Every year.
Until one day you wake up and you hate a whole season of your life.
Every year.
It’s so depressing.
I spent so many years trying to find it. And the worst part? I tried to replace my family with a new one. So many times I tried to build a family, or fit myself into someone else’s.
So many relationships.
So many failed attempts.
So many Christmas dinners with people I didn’t even know.
To only feel lonely, depressed, and empty.
I had tried to find those lost feelings from when I was young. But I just couldn’t. So then, I’d just walk away. Alone again. I’d give up.
Because it wasn’t perfect. It didn’t fill that hole. That empty space in my heart.
The hole from my father.
And now?
Mom’s gone too. 🥺
December 14th, 2022. (Of course it had to be at Christmas.)
I hate the fucking holidays!
I sigh.
You know, I used to think if I went somewhere else, or was with someone different, I could get over it. But now I’m realizing it doesn’t matter where I go or who I’m with. I just can’t get away from it.
I’m still going to be sad.
Every year.
Cheers.
Here’s to the end of another season.
It can’t come soon enough.
