Happiness In Grief

I was wrapping Christmas presents this afternoon.  There was father: book.  Mother: iPad accessory.  Friend: book.  Friend: game.  Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  Unroll the paper, measure the gift, pull, cut, trim, tape, trim, tape, trim, tape, tape, tape, ribbon, bow, next gift. After the fifth present it became a mechanical process, almost boring.  Almost…work.  How terrible, no? Terrible to think that emotions of giving, kindness, secrets and surprises would become dread, bother, monotony.

I’ve mentioned before that my dead sister took the job of wrapping gifts very seriously.  She was the one that always made Christmas an all caps, exclamation points, jazz hands affair: CHRISTMAS!!! She would wear the Santa hat, spend hours wrapping gifts, decorate the tree, decorate cookies my mom would make.  She wasn’t much for cooking, but she was all about the decoration.  Cooking was work.  Somehow all the other work she did decorating the…

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