Over the last twenty years, my family has always celebrated the holidays in the same manner. My husband and I would get up super early and I would begin cooking. I would cook the whole traditional holiday dinner.
I cooked the turkey, the ham, made rice dressing and cornbread stuffing from scratch. Corn, green bean casserole, rolls, salad. I made cookies, blueberry pies, pumpkin pies, mincemeat pies. My husband would get the table set up and get out the fancy holiday dishes.
Around noon, everyone would begin to arrive. It was all four of our kids, along with their partners and kids. My mother also came. Normally, we would have at least one or two other guests. These would be co-workers or friends that didn't have anywhere else to spend the holidays. We didn't want them to be alone for the holidays, so we would invite them to join our family celebration.
My husband died two years ago, at the end of September. For Thanksgiving, I still cooked the entire meal, but when it came time to gather I couldn't do it. I made everyone to-go plates and they came and picked them up. I accidentally forgot to make myself one, so I ended up with no holiday dinner. For Christmas, I took the entire bunch out to a buffet.
Last year, I cooked again. Both holidays. Of course, there was myself, and the son that lives with me. My mother came, and my daughters dropped off the grandkids, but didn't stay themselves. My other son had some excuse for not being able to come into town.
This year, everyone let me know that they didn't want to do the traditional gathering. They decided instead to begin their own celebrations. This hurt a bit, but I agreed. After all, what else could I do?
I didn't bother cooking, because that is just way too much food for two people. No one invited myself or my son to their festivities. No one came to see us, either. We sat alone for the holidays, watching television. I didn't even get one gift for my birthday or Christmas.
It really hurt to be so left out. I respect their wishes to begin their own traditions, but it was their father that died, not me. I am still here. I have feelings. To make matters worse, this was the first Christmas ever that I didn't see any of my grandkids at all. It was heartbreaking.