Tis’ a Sad Day for Kerri

I woke up very early this morning. Whenever there is a holiday, which St. Patrick’s always was up until now, I’d have a hard time sleeping because my brain was too excited. So much to do, so little time.

The children would be running around making place cards or finding green items in the house. My brother would get here early with his dog to help. My husband would pick up my Uncle who we miss a lot and would tell the greatest stories. My other aunt and uncle would come with grandma and tell us the mishaps in the car ride over.

My mother would come with or without her husband, depending on the day. But it was always exciting when Grandma you-know-who was here.

Irish music filled the air. The aroma of corn beef and cabbage, home-made breads and desserts would taunt my husband who is Italian but loved this holiday despite his heritage.

And the thing I think I will miss the most is knowing that no matter what we had each other to lean on. That we would always have our people. No matter how weird and loud and annoying we were to each other and by each other, we were together. But that’s all over.

So, I woke up this morning and it hit me that this wasn’t going to be an exciting day. There was no reason to rush. No anticipation of visitors and moving tables and chairs. No worrying about if we had enough. Just a regular day.

Choir in the morning was nice. Everyone asked me if I was having a full house and I sadly told them no.

Went home to find out the NYC parade was on yesterday. That was going to be my saving grace on this depressing day. I would watch it on the internet, but its just not the same.

Gave a haircut to my husband and son. Got my daughter ready for the Father/Daughter dance they conveniently scheduled on 17th. Threw some corned beef in a pot and am now sitting in my room with Sponge Bob in the back ground.

You may be wondering why I am feeling so down. I’ll explain. For years, our house was the main hub for all things celebrated. If there was someone who had nowhere to go, they were welcome. I learned that from my mother growing up. We always had a full house and if we weren’t the place to be, we would be invited somewhere. Not this year and I fear the party’s over.

I feel sad for the kids who were raised in such a family oriented celebrating environment. Now they ask who’s coming over, and I say no one. They just look at me with a confused look.

This seems to be the pattern lately. Maybe it’s us. Money has been extremely tight and we can’t have all the get togethers as we did before. It’s definitely that the elders who brought everyone together have either died or moved away. Maybe we’re just not exciting enough. I don’t know. No one’s ever needed an invitation before.

I can’t help but to feel forgotten and overlooked which I know is not the truth, but it’s how I feel. And yes, I am whining!

I am whining on this blog because it has become my voice. All things I cannot say or dare not say out loud, I can write.

Writing has always been my means of therapy. But it was always tucked away in a note book. Now I put it out there and I guess I’ve burned some bridges. But I fear those bridges haven’t been crossed in a long time anyway. So, it doesn’t really matter now.

So, Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you celebrating with family and friends.

And a special shout out to all of you who are alone and writing your own blogs or reading mine. I’d invite you over but that probably wouldn’t go over well with my husband:)

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About goplayintraffic

My Blog, which began as a mommy blog and turned into a writing website, www.write2survive.com, is the product of my years of being home with my children and trying to find ways to keep myself sane. I have always had this feeling, coming from a single mother, that I have to contribute financially and that I have to be able to take care of myself and my children. having been married, being a NYC school teacher, having four children, living in Newtown, CT and trying to find a way to get through each day with a smile has always been something I've strived for. My stories, articles and poems will do a lot of things but mostly make you feel. I think that is what is so wonderful about having the ability to write. I have been given the gift of taking my emotions and transferring them to written word. Once that is done, I can share those words with others who may feel better, maybe just for a moment, but better nonetheless having read my words. I am glad you are here and hope you will stay:)
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