I had a conversation with a friend this morning.
It stirred up some stuff for me.
So I want to share a story.
If you’ve been following the blog for a while, then you know I had a brother who died when I was in high school.
I was sixteen, and he was three.
This time of year is bittersweet for me.
I love Christmas.
Love. It.
But December 2nd is my baby brother’s birthday, and December 16th is the anniversary of his death.
So the holidays always bring mixed emotions for me, especially now that I have children who are the age my brother was when he died…
We got our Christmas tree on Friday night.
I really look forward to this night every year because we have established a Christmas tree tradition here at our house.
Every year we go to the same place to get our tree.
We pick out our tree, and then we walk through the Christmas shop area of the store and check out the ornaments.
We go inside and see Santa.
And then we walk through the store and check out all the decorations.
The kids love it.
And so do I.
But it always leaves me thinking about that last year that my brother was alive, that last December that my family went to get a Christmas tree.
It would be the last Christmas tree my brother would see.
We knew my brother was going to die. We didn’t know how much time he had left, but we knew the end was very near.
I was pretty fucked up at the time, and I had just started dating a boy. He was the first boy I had ever dated.
A bunch of my friends were going out one night, and my new boyfriend was going also.
My parents wouldn’t let me go out with my friends. They insisted on getting the tree.
So I refused to go with my family.
My parents, who had enough shit to deal with at the time, gave up and let me stay home.
They never imagined that I would watch them drive away, and that as soon as the taillights were out of sight, I would call my boyfriend.
That he would come and pick me up.
That I would leave for the night.
Just like that.
A fuck you to my family. And my brother.
I live my life with out any regrets, really.
I wouldn’t be who I am without the experiences I’ve had.
But I do have one.
One thing that I have wished I could redo.
Over and over and over and over again.
And it is that night.
Missing getting that last Christmas tree with my whole family intact.
Putting my parents through hell.
I know I was going through a traumatic experience and that I was a teenager at the time.
I know my forethought was limited.
But I wish so badly that I had that memory.
I have forgiven myself now, but I will always regret that decision.
You don’t have to.
Maybe this year is your year.
Because you just never know.
Maybe this is the year you mend that relationship.
That you extend the olive branch.
That you make that phone call or write that letter.
Maybe this is the year that instead of saying, next year, you just do it.
It won’t guarantee a happy ending.
But rather than giving yourself the potential gift of what ifs and if onlys, this year, maybe you should give yourself the gift of no regrets.
Thank you for making me Number 1!
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