Someone always cries on Christmas.
But It's frustrating to me how I am supposed to ignore it and just pretend, because it's christmas.
Theres always an excuse for why we shouldnt deal with something sad.
He cried that evening and fell into his own arms. All I could do was watch.
And this morning they argued with me. I think if they were really as happy as they act they wouldnt argue at the slightest notion.
And my grandmother used to come every christmas morning. Remember when we got that Dream Street CD? Our family room used to look so big.
One single couch and a christmas tree, the only furniture. Fresh white carpet, new white walls. Mom was never big on color. Wrapping paper and pine needles, because we used to get a real tree. Boy bands blasting and cart-wheels and snow falling out the window as the sky grew darker and colder. But it was warm inside and there was no school for a while. That was all that mattered. We used to have christmas at our house. Unfortunately, it was built on a broken bond.
At dinner today, we said grace and she was thinking of Uncle Gene. I think everyone could tell.
She didnt say much, but it meant alot. Sometimes words fail. I think maybe that's love.
The difference between my two holidays is that some people care and some people only care about "making conversation".
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