I blogged at Thanksgiving last year about becoming an orphan in my 50’s. Nothing brings us the nostalgia of home quite like the holidays. And my entire adult life, I can’t recall one holiday season we didn’t spend at least one of them, Thanksgiving or Christmas, with my family.
My parents loved the holidays and their family. They loved having us all home for the celebration. The above photo was taken in their home in Noblesville, Indiana, circa 2014. It wasn’t the home I grew up in, but Mom had a special gift for making every one of her homes feel that way. This one was no different.
Growing up, my parents always had Christmas music spinning on the turntable in the living room console. As I write this, I’m enjoying the same classic tunes on YouTube. Sitting here by the light of the tree as Perry Como sings “There’s No Lace Like Home For the Holidays,” I really do wish I could transport back in time.
The Empty Nest Syndrome only exacerbates the feeling of loss. My daughters are grown and living their own lives two time zones away. I may not even hear from them. I cannot call my parents anymore to tell them when we’ll be there for Christmas. So, yes, the holidays have lost their luster.
Mom’s death Thanksgiving Weekend nine years ago really marred that holiday. I am glad that my daughters and I made the trip up to Indiana that year. We stayed an extra week to be with Dad and help plan the December memorial. Then, three years ago October, Dad passed right before the holiday season. More than COVID-induced pneumonia, he died of a broken heart, not willing to suffer another holiday season without her.
This orphan will suffer another season without them, the people who gave the holidays their special meaning. I won’t have my girls with me, either. I fully expect seasonal depression to set in like it did last year. The holiday season is, in deed, changed forever.
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