The holidays are coming. Ordinarily, I'm a holdiay kind of gal. I look forward to decorating, feeding people, opening my home. I love the music, the optimism, the sparkle. I love the intense competition that is Black Friday.
But I'm tired. Babygirl's pain and sadness have colored my world to a fatiguing shade of grey. I keep putting one foot in front of the other, and I encourage her to do likewise. I cradle her in my arms and let her cry. I keep her medications up-to-date and make sure she understands what she can do to help keep the headaches at bay. I've bought alternatives to the food she loves but cannot have right now.
Last night we watched the new episode of Glee. It's her favorite show, and the only one I allow her to stay up late to watch. There were sad scenes, and there were funny scenes. In one moment we were both laughing out loud, and in the next she was clutching her head and saying that laughing made her head hurt more.
That was about the most depressing thing I've ever heard.
Thirteen. More. Days.