Christmas Without Mom

I'm not the first person to face their first Christmas without their mom. Billions before me have had the experience.

But this is my first Christmas without my mom, and the experience is my own.

It didn't really hit me until the holiday cards began arriving from the people that somehow, despite my best efforts to contact everybody in the universe, didn't know she died this year.

I just opened a Christmas card that was forwarded to me, addressed to my mom, from a couple who was very close to my mom a lifetime ago. They were good friends even before my mom and dad were divorced in 1974. I clearly remember spending afternoons playing with their kids, who were the same age as me, at their house in Pennsylvania.

Ugh. It's just all very "real" now. What the heck am I going to do on Christmas Eve this year? Usually I'd be at my mom's house, eating undercooked shrimp cocktail, watching my multitude of aunts and uncles pretending to get along, and sharing all-knowing glances with my wife and kids. It was always great when my dear friends would stop by for a drink (after making a dozen stops for drinks with friends and family) and exchange presents with mom.

Bah humbug. For now.