Unexpected

My mother died July 5. It is now November 5. I haven't blogged in forever because it's been hard to connect two thoughts together. My family is hurting and there is no denying it. Now my mother-in-law is having hallucinations, hearing voices and going through the horrible steps of dementia. It doesn't seem to end.

On top of all of this I have started the craft show circuit. I do only three a year. The first was a major disappointment sales wise. I think it was a combination of being stuck in a corner with only one table and horribly low attendance because the sun was shining and folks wanted to catch that last nice day for yard work.

Yesterday was the second show. The attendance was better. At the start, I was fine. Honest. Got the tables set up, got everything out and it looked great. Sat down to enjoy the crowd. Then a man from the church started off with this hokey Christmas music. I was fine. Then he started singing "I'll be home for Christmas". It was my mom's favorite Chgristmas song. I started to cry and I couldn't stop. I went into the bathroom and stood weeping while he finished the song. My mom was emotionally ill and we had a lousy relationship. Christmas was her favorite holiday, yet she handled it badly most years. Holidays were the time when her hallucinations were stronger and her mood was harshest. I stood in that bathroom with tears pouring down my face wondering what in hell was wrong with me. Although my mom and I clashed at every moment, I still miss her. She is no longer on this planet and I still have that twinge of guilt niggling at me. That little niggle of guilt that my very existence contributed to her discontent and unhappiness. And Christmas music makes it worse. Always has.

Life changes. It is ever changing. And yet, it stays the same. And sometimes it's a good thing. And sometimes it's a sucky thing. I'm hoping the last craft show isn't as hard as yesterday's was.

The good news is sales were better than the last craft show. The table as a whole didn't do great but we didn't crap out either.

And more good news is my sister finished her last radiaton therapy for breast cancer. She had a lumpechtomy (spelling iffy here) then 36 radiation treatments. When I call her and ask how she is, her reply is nearly always the same... "A crispy critter" is how she replies. We're hoping this is the end of it for her and that she heals and can get on with life.

The sucky things are winning dammit, and I'm tired of them.

Wishing you bright blessings.