I hate November. I hate turning that page on my calendar. November scares the hell out of me. Even if everything is going along smoothly in my life, when November comes, I expect the worst. I am waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me again. I seriously hate November. November is bad luck. In November, my karma is askew. My stars are out of whack. It begins in November, and it lasts clear through until the holidays finally, slowly, painfully come to an end.
It wasn’t always this way. As a kid, I looked forward to Thanksgiving and the Christmas holidays. I loved seeing my grandparents and getting tons of presents. I loved decorating the Christmas tree and baking cookies. I loved it all. Now, I go through the motions. I know what I am supposed to do at this time of year, but my heart isn’t in it.
In 1987, my daughter Grace was born on November 24. She was born too early, just under three pounds. November reminds me of the happy anticipation of that year long ago. The nursery we were setting up, the Thanksgiving plans. That Thanksgiving didn’t happen. We spent that day sitting by our daughter’s bedside as she fought for her life. The crib we had put together days before her birth was sadly taken down weeks later, never used. Continue Reading »