It's January 6, and my Christmas tree is still standing proud. For someone who was hesitant back in December about marking this past Christmas in any shape or form, it seems odd that the biggest, most prominent sign of the holiday is still hanging tough in my living room. Even I'm surprised by my renewed attachment to this glistening pine. Just a few weeks back, I chose to shun its festive spirit, but now I find comfort in it like a security blanket.
I just don't have the heart to pack it away. As much as I wanted 2010 to be gone forever, a part of me wants to hang on for dear life. 2010 will be the last year that I hugged my Mum, heard her beautiful voice, and saw the love she had for me in her eyes. I'll never get that sweet comfort ever again. Every day is one more step farther away from her.
It's true that the move into any new year brings with it a collection of regrets, hopes and remembrances, but when you're still raw from loss, everything seems more vivid, more heartbreaking. 2011, at least for the first few months, will continue to be as upsetting as 2010. The one year anniversary of Mum's death is nearing with every day - it will be the last of the first-year milestones, and the most poignant one of all. So perhaps it does make sense why I'm dragging my feet regarding my Christmas tree. If I can delay the inevitable even by a day or two, perhaps I can feel a little bit closer to my Mum. It may sound silly but right now, it just makes sense.