On the 11th, I undecked the halls. We held off on Christmas until The Clone was here, so that meant keeping the tree up a bit later than normal.
Each year, when I pack the ornaments away in the stockings, I get to take a little walk down memory lane. It’s interesting to me that (apparently) most of my memory still resides in my head, awaiting the appropriate trigger for release. It’s also interesting to me that of the traumas I remember, none seems bad enough to trigger a memory wipe-out like I have. I talked a bit about that with a therapist when I took the kids to their appointment last week. I’m now entertaining the theory that instead of one significant event, it may have been a result of my wish to avoid conflict at all costs. Anytime there was conflict, wipewipewipe. And folks, my childhood was filled with fairly significant amounts of conflict and when there was not direct conflict, there was the threat and/or fear of imminent conflict. I’m particularly leaning toward this theory since I remember very little of my first marriage and am quickly losing the details of the last three years of my second marriage. I remember enough to know why I am getting divorced though, and at this point, that’s all that really matters, isn’t it? And if you haven’t guessed yet, the final event was significantly traumatic for me. Enough so that it is etched in my mind forprettymuchever.
On another note, there were ornaments missing this year–I gave the ones that had belonged to my almost ex-husband back to him as well as the stocking his mother had made. It was only right, but I missed seeing the stocking. But only because I dearly loved his mother. That lady was one class act, and I am not saying that in the sarcastic way we usually say it in these parts. I truly mean it.
Also on this date, the 11th, it should be noted that one year and one day have now passed since we separated. My sentence has been served. I’ll avoid jokes about hemorrhoid treatment, especially since I am now fondly referred to as “butthead” alot. And not by him. 😈