Holiday Traditions

Up with a memory

in my dream,

dad and a cup of tea.

So I'm here with the moon and the cat

and my "Candy Cane Lane"-

letting the feelings move through me.

Nostalgia is where I started,

tea and melancholy.

Together, dad and I loved the Christmas tree.

My spirit won't let me sit longer in grief,

though, as I'm reminded of the end.

Cancer sucks, yes! Oh, but comfort! Now he's free!

Right now, he's probably laying on the floor

doing puzzles with Ryan. He never got tired of it-

when he was well, hearing, "Grandpa, watch me!"

This year has been extra sweet for dad

as his hunting and fishing buddy joined him.

In heaven-is it catch and release?

Mom's there, too, and my heart turns to

thankfulness for her, doing what she loved!

Holidays with family and friends! Off the couch and pain-free.

I'm going to make a new tradition-

to not get stuck in sad. Sad can lead to

mad, and mad can go to blame, in a jiffy.

The thing about blame;

it feels easier than mourning, at first.

"Someone else" should take responsibility.

Hardening my heart into ice cubes

makes it feel brittle, slivers of mad

breaking off and poking, as you bump into them.

I'm sorry, that looked like it hurt!

Because of Christmas, heaven provided.

We won't need ice cubes there, only gratitude.

Sadness doesn't come as I remember,

it comes as I forget:

The birth of a baby.

Thanks, Dad.