28 December, The Dullest Day for a Decade

Not much happened on this day since 2012, according to the daily gratitude lists I've kept for almost a decade (skipped a few years, sometime around my husband's death and my recovery from surgery, 2015-2018). Even my Facebook memories are dull for this day. Probably due to that "nothing is happening" syndrome that occurs during the lull between many a Christmas and New Year.

In 2012, I moved my daughter from her college town of Memphis to my house in Kentucky. In 2013, I was in Virginia, as witnessed by the fuzzy photo of that huge poinsettia my mother received as a gift. By 2014, I was with dad in Virginia, where I commented that I thought he was doing well. Also noted that my cousin was moving from Pennsylvania to about five miles from dad to take care of his mother (my father's sister). He's been there since.

In 2015, I was without a husband, as he died a year and one month after my mother, in July. I had quit smoking a month after his death, and I commented that I didn't have to take as many showers at dad's place, because I didn't smell like smoke. Dad and I settled into a tradition where I would join him every Christmas week. We would eat at King's Island Restaurant for one meal. Christmas breakfasts would consist of my mother's oyster stew. We also took walks around the mall (see photo above), and he was always ahead of me. This was not an activity that included talking, obviously. In the evenings, we'd have a glass of wine and watch Hallmark Movies.

I found his addiction to Hallmark movies hilarious, as he never finished watching a movie when mom wanted him to sit with her to watch one. He always said he knew how it would end, and he had better things to do. Always a disappointment to mom in that arena. I even told dad that mom would be turning over in her grave knowing that he was watching one to two movies every evening...all the way to the end. He especially loved the castle movies with the waltzes. I ended up buying a few waltz CDs so he could listen to the music.

I miss those few years I had with dad alone for a number of reasons, mainly because I was as lonely as he was. But, traditions always change. If they don't, then they end and all we have are memories. If we don't share memories, then those stories die with us.