“Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
“I wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Natalie and Luke are spending Christmas with my mother and grandmother because I will be at the hospital. As I have been for the past few days. Their dad is so sick that my Christmas will be very original this year. A Christmas like no other.

While they open their Christmas gifts under my mother’s Christmas tree and eat holiday dinner in between playing with their new toys; I’ll be sitting in a hospital room, from the beginning of visiting hours until they kick me out, hoping their dad gets better because selfishly I don’t want to have to figure out a way to tell a three and a half year old her father died. And I don’t want to have to try and find a way to make a 20 month old remember his father from what little memories he could possibly have at 20 months old.

It’s easy to look for someone to blame. But in this case he’s the only one to blame. I just can’t say it to him. I get to the hospital and he’s on oxygen and having treatments. Doctors poke him in arteries (not veins) and his numbers are still low. The outlook isn’t good and I can’t tell him that it’s his fault because unless he still hasn’t woken up and joined reality he knows and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him. It just upsets me so much that he didn’t listen to me. I didn’t get through to him. So now my Christmas isn’t how I expected it to be. I won’t be there to see Natalie and Lukie’s faces when they open their Christmas gifts.

I am just so angry at him for not caring about his health. For causing this to happen.
I’m sad. And I’m being selfish this holiday season instead of holly jolly. But I’m silently also hoping that just this once I can be selfish and things work out.