DST and the Blues

Daylight Savings Time has never been something I cared much about. I had that awesome kid people dreamed of. The one who went to bed and woke up “normal” during DST and napped the same. But now when any little thing can (and will) bring the blues, it’s really and most sincerely not my cup of tea. Sure you get an extra hour of sleep (assuming you sleep) but it gets so dark so fast and, well, that just doesn’t do well with my moods nowadays.

I woke today to fog, rain and yuck. The kind that if our family were camping together would’ve made a marvelous breakfast over the damp fire kind of morning, but since we were at home, was just another “yuck” morning. This would’ve been the kind of morning that we, as a family, would plan “schumpfin fun” together and maybe find ourselves sharing a cinnamon pretzel at the mall while we shopped, seeing a movie in the theater or snuggling at home under warm laundry. It would have been the perfect day for us to take down the Halloween decorations that WOULD have adorned every corner of our home and excitedly decorate for Thanksgiving. In my house, if it’s a holiday on the calendar, there is a carefully packed bin (or 9) of glittery decorations to coordinate.
The only place I decorate for the holidays anymore is Kate’s beautiful resting place and so, despite the rain and yuck, that’s where my day began. I took down all of Kate’s Halloween things, trimmed the sopping wet grass closest to her head stone and decorated with pink, white & gold pumpkins for Thanksgiving. I know that’s not WHERE she is, but I can’t help feeling like tending to her place is the only way I can physically care for her anymore.
More yard work followed at home in the damp, soggy weather and before I knew it, dark had come and the evening blues set in. This season of mine is just so damn hard. There is so much to miss. So much to ache for. So many memories that were as good as I’d ever had turned to as bad as ever could be. Thanksgiving of 2015 marks the LAST DAY I can remember Kate being 100% healthy. The cough would come the following day….a random fever days after that. And she would only get worse and never recover. So forever, this season will be my kryptonite. My greatest memories with the most horrific reality, all rolled into one.
I generally eat, sleep or drink my feelings and stuff them as deep as I can so that I can face another day. Tonight, while it’s pitch black at 5:20pm, I am missing my baby, snuggled in my donut pj pants (which she would find hilarious) and my fox fuzzy slippers while I drink a hot vanilla chai from my favorite Katie mug.
It may or may not be spiked.

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