On the Eighth Day of Christmas

… my sister, my son, and I went to a New Year’s get-together at the little guy’s godparents’ house.

It was wonderful to see good friends and friendly acquaintances, some of whom I hadn’t seen in quite awhile, many of whom had brought along their kids so that the little guy could actually be a kid and I could actually enjoy being at a party thrown by friends.  (As a single mom, that’s becoming more and more a rarity these days.)

My sister, who’s an introvert, was more than happy to sit back in a quiet area of the house, watch the little kids play, occasionally engage in a little bit of small talk, and partake of good party food.

Upon driving back home, my sister and I happily noticed that a few folks kept their Christmas decorations up… which was ironic since both she and I really haven’t felt very “Christmas-y” all season long.  Shopping for Christmas just felt like shopping, Christmas with family just felt like being with family on the weekend, and even the New Year’s party felt like a party thrown on any weekend of the year.

Of course, it doesn’t take rocket science to know why:  This is the first holiday season in which the Hubby and I are officially separated, and — likewise — this is the first holiday season in many years in which my sister didn’t have a man in her life (whether her now ex-husband or now ex-boyfriend) to share the season.

The whole “On the [insert ordinal number] day of Christmas, my true love [italics inserted] gave to me…” can easily solicit eye-rolls from either of us — if we let it.

So I’m glad it’s still Christmas — four more days of the Christmas season, and then Epiphany on January 6.  My sister’s Speech class will end on January 7, and she’ll get her final course grade not too soon after.  When she passes — not “if” she passes — she will get that long-worked-for Associate’s degree.  And for both of us, THAT will be our best Christmas present in this wistful, poignant season.

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