Christmas Eve Blahs

It may be beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but, to me at least, it doesn't feel like it.

This is only my second Christmas without my mother, and for some reason it feels less merry than my first one.  Perhaps that's to be expected with Donald Trump having returned to power and trashed everything.  But there have been other reasons.  A few weeks ago, the side-view mirror on my car get damaged and, because it's illegal to drive with even one damaged side-view mirror, I had to stay home during the annual Christmas historic-house tour that Essex County, New Jersey has every first weekend of December.  I had to miss some big local tree lightings, too.  I've also gotten bored with hearing the same Christmas songs over and over again on the radio (played every year by the same iHeart station - yuck!), and I was unable to go anywhere for holiday enjoyment in mid=December because of a previously scheduled colonoscopy.

The biggest void is no one to exchange gifts with.  I put up my tree like I did last year, and after having done such an abominable job decorating it last year, I was pleased this year when it came out better.  But the cats still keep messing it up. though I wouldn't trade my little fur babies for anything. 

It hasn't been a total washout.  This past Sunday, I went into New York to see model-turned-jazz singer Pat Cleveland, my previous interaction with whom you may remember, perform a set of songs, and she turned out to be a delightful performer as well as a fine singer.  I only knew about her show because her husband, whom I'm connected to on social media (it's complicated, don't ask me to explain it) invited me, and I was happy to go.  It cost me a pretty penny to get there and back as well as for the who itself, but it was worth it.  

I still have some sadness, though, if only because of where we Americans are as a sorry excuse for a nation.  Fourteen months ago this time, I expected to be celebrating Christmas 2025 with a woman who looks a lot like Pat Cleveland running the country and embodying a new birth of freedom; instead, I have given up on These States and I am openly advocating secession and disunion.  But the lack of someone to exchange presents with is still depressing enough.  It's a shame not to have someone to receive a gift from.  It's even more of a shame not to have someone to give a gift to.

Tough, but true.