Every year at this time, I think about my dear old dad. This will be my fourth Christmas without him, and although he often wanders into my thoughts throughout the year, its around now that he comes more freely and unexpectedly. I attribute it mainly to all the sappy family-love-feel-good-but-still-sad Christmas movies I subject myself to. Namely, the Family Stone, a movie starring Diane Keaton as a brave independent accepting mother who is dying of cancer, and her children find out one by one during the course of the movie. I guess the subplot is kinda funny too, it includes Sarah Jessica Parker as an uptight city broad who doesn't know the meaning of being yourself, or just that her "self" is impossibly tense and frigid. But the mom story really hits me hard whenever I watch it, and Im in tears by the first sign of her illness.
I suppose it makes me think of my father's last Christmas. We had just found out that his cancer had come back full force, and there wasn't much hope, even with aggressive treatment. So we were well aware that it was, in fact, his last Christmas. It didn't really put pressure on us to make it great, because the holidays were just naturally that with our family. We didn't have to try, and that made it all the more eerie that we were going to be with him this one last time for the holidays. My dad was always the life of the party during Christmas, and really, he didn't do much but play board games, and watch football (something I have had as much interest in as say.... underwater torture). It was his spirit though, the essence of him and the happiness that came from him during this time of year. It's difficult to explain, but I certainly notice its absence now.
Jesse recently asked me if I was always this "cheerful" during the holidays. And I think I have been. But something tells me I am trying to fill that void of spirit that I always had around me when my dad was alive. It's one of the things I miss the most. And the loss of it is making me maniacly chipper and, well, festive. I am forcing the feeling, which is to say.....I am trying to replace my father with feelings I'm not sure really exist.
In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy the holiday season, almost as if I am conquering it, beating it at its own cheerful game. My dad would be proud I think.... or maybe he would be sad. I guess its the never knowing that gets to me most.
