Oh the holidays! The joy, lights, music, scents (best smells ever come from holiday scents!!!), people, celebrations, and traditions. Ah traditions. They are the biggest comfort with the sharpest edge to people who are grieving.

The year of “firsts without Nana” is coming to and end and as she passed on the first of January it leaves us with celebrating the holidays right before that one year anniversary. Our family is really close. I know I’ve mentioned this because there’s no way I haven’t.

Its been the most comforting thing in the world to have them to lean on through this. But as December hits and the Christmas vibes really kick up and shove the joy down your throat I find I’m so tired. I’ve been paying attention to my fatigue levels after having Covid but even before that I notice there’s a difference in my tired days. There’s the normal “its been a hard week and I just don’t want to adult after work” tired, the “wow everyone is really on my nerves please leave me alone with my books” tired, and then there’s “I don’t know how life goes on brain fog full body exhaustion” tired. That last one I can now identify as grief tired. If this is a real term let me know because as of right now I think I made it up.

Its not all consuming and please don’t recommend a therapist (I’ve got one don’t worry). Its just that sometimes the grief comes in waves and feel physically heavy. Sometimes it knocks the wind out of me and sometimes its more subtle. It just blankets over me and feels like I’m exhausted and my brain is foggy but looking at pictures or remembering stories about Nana helps. Generally it lasts a few days and I rally and get my crap together. Except that lately I haven’t got my crap together. My house is suffering for it and the time has come for me to be an adult. I hate it.

Even when it comes to running the business I can feel it. The reminder that I didn’t pay close enough attention to what she was teaching me when we were working together. The fact that I took for granted that she would always be there weighs on me and flares up for days at a time. I wish I had clung to every word and had a memory like Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory so I could recall every second of our lives together. I’ll take the good and the bad!

So I’m venting to hold myself accountable. To put it out in the universe that I wont be held down by the grief anymore. I will put on my big girl pants and clean my house. My mom always says “messy bed, messy head” and it always drives me insane. Even more so when I realize she’s right. I don’t want to hand this lifestyle down to my child. I really don’t want my reality TV debut to be on the show Hoarders so this weekend we make changes! May even ask for help.