Christmas Memories
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| Screenshot of our legendary Halifax apartment |
When Theresa's mother Marion, past away, it left a huge hole in our lives. We had instantly moved from caregiver to survivors. Distinct and painful memories slowly crept into our memories. Theresa had a rough go of it. Losing her mother was both a relief and a burden: She missed her, but the poor woman suffered from Lewy Body Dementia and had put her and myself through the seven levels of hell for months.
And in a flash in March 2012, it was over. All was left was her phrases, memories of her laughter, and the bitterness of remembering her cry.
We had one Christmas with her mother and her aunt in Prince Edward Island one year. It was a trainwreck. Back then, everyone smoked - Bernice, Marion, and Theresa. I never liked having Christmas with other people. I could tell Theresa was uncomfortable about it.
When we returned, we vowed it was the last time. We had rented a Dodge Minivan, and packed up a ton of stuff to bring over to the island. Driving was a challenge. I wasn't used to the minivan. It wasn't great, but it worked.
I will always remember that Christmas eve in Nova Scotia, we had drinks and Kentucky Fried Chicken. I think it was $25 bucks for a 12 piece bucket. I poured out some hard liquor for myself and began eating. A few drinks in, and I was done with the alcohol. "If the Lord spares us another day." Theresa's mother Marion would always say. "That's right." I agreed with her. She had this natural, contagious laugh. "Ooooh boy I'm really feelin' it tonight!" she said out loud.
I laughed.
"I'm not drinking much tonight" Theresa said. I didn't blame her. Christmas was depressing as she thought about her late brother, Michael, who died in 2001 from a skin infection. He was extremely overweight. A sad story indeed.
Presents were never a priority, but I made sure to spoil her every Christmas time. I had to.
"As long as we have each other, I'll be fine." Theresa would say.
Now that is a rare thing to hear.
Merry F'ing Christmas.


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