Tatted

A HAUNTED HOUSE IN DECEMBER

"Sometimes we don't want to heal because the pain is the last link to what we've lost."

*****

It's scary how a moment can suddenly become a memory. I fear that the moments I once cherished will someday only be my past. I'm scared to move on and leave my happiness behind, dropping peices of who I am while climbing toward the future.

Will I someday fall? Will I reach the top?

But if I reach the tip of the mountain the memories I once gripped onto with all my might will be left at the bottom. Am I scared to leave them behind, or am I scared to travel upwards because of the comfort and familiarity I feel in pain? It might be both, it might be neither.

All I know is that Tyler isn't here, and I am compromised to the man I despise.

The hair care aisle at Target isn't the place to think about this but yet, here I am. My eyes scan the different bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I grab one and throw it in the cart.

As I make my way out of the aisle I spot the Christmas section. Colors of red, green, and white pop out at me. Lights and glitter and things that glow scatter the organized shelves.

Christmas is my favorite holiday for one reason and one reason only.

When I was younger my family was always apart.

My mom hid, too terrified to care for anyone other than herself. My sister- as much as she tried to stay by my side- was a teenager and needed to have her own space. My father was a man who no one liked to be around. He was dangerous and scary. He stayed away but so did we.

Christmas was the only time when we pretended to be a happy family. And although I would wake up the next day and everything would be back to normal, my fears would be on pause for just one day and I appreciated it.

Christmas holds one of the only good memories of my childhood and I like to relish that feeling every time the month of December comes around.

Scents of gingerbread and candy canes waft from a specific aisle, so I make my way there. Candles line the shelves and I take the time to smell every one of them. I love candles.

After minutes of being the only one looking at candles, an elderly lady strolls into the aisle.

I notice her cart that is filled with everything Christmas. From lights to stockings to blankets and wrapping paper. Her cart is stacked to the brim with things. She wears a Christmas sweater and a cheery smile.

Then she smiles at me. I politely smiled back.

"Sweetheart, which one do you think a four-year-old would like better?" She asks in a southern accent.

I realize the question is directed at me when her squinting blue eyes peer at me through thick-rimmed glasses. She holds a stocking in each hand. One of them is Disney princess themed, the other is Marvel themed.  I flit my eyes between both while deciding.

"I like the Disney one." I admit. She nods with a smile and places it into the cart.

"Oh, I just love Christmas! It's so colorful and... And snowy!" She exclaims and I grin. "I'm shopping for my granddaughter. I'm visiting her this Christmas. She lives in Florida. I'm just so excited, I haven't seen her in years."

"Oh, wow, that's good."

"Are you shopping for anyone?"

I hesitate for a second. I don't have anyone to shop for even if I wanted to. "No, I'm just looking."