Christmas is slowly approaching, its time for my yearly ritual. I start to become less responsive to people and emotions. I am still suck in the past on this holiday. This is one of the three holidays I can not stand. I spend this day alone in hopes to not make others sad and I sure as fuck hate people feeling bad for me. My Grandparents always try their hardest to make it a great Christmas and they, do but I can never escape these feelings.
This year I will sit at home alone and watch The Christmas Story, have my good cry and go to bed. To you that may sound shitty but to me its one more day I am alive, one more day I am out of being abused. It means I completed a year without attempting to hurt myself.
My Christmas’s in the past have always had some of the weirdest events take place. When I was six I was in the hospital the month of December with pneumonia. Then when I was seven my mom and dad caught the tree on fire. When I was eight my mom and dad had “split” and were on a break from each other so there was not going to be a Christmas. I was sad but I always had my Nana’s house ( mom’s, mom.) I will admit that year was by far one of the best Christmas I can remember under the age of thirteen. My mom was in the kitchen and I heard the doorbell ring. I screamed for my mom and she ran to the door. There was no one there, just a box and a basket. My mom handed me the basket and grabbed the box. Inside the basket there was a card that simply said “Merry Christmas.” My mom looked puzzled I was to busy rustling with the box to care. As I started to uncover the contents of the box I felt my little heart beat! It could be anything! I finally got the tap off the box and inside I found the best gift ever for an eight year old! A Super Nintendo!!!!!! Not only that but I had the Aladdin game! (To this day that is my favorite game.)
Now, don’t get me wrong it’s not like I didn’t have things at Christmas. I was an only child but I came from an extremely dysfunctional family. My moms family has always been what is considered is “loaded.” I would say its old money and from what I hear that’s the best kind. My mother, bless her heart was the black sheep of her siblings. My mom has eight brothers and sisters so she is use to big holidays. Every year we would go to my Nana’s house and open gifts and eat wonderful food all day. I loved when we would go because my mom would get so dressed up. I adored my mom she had beautiful ivory white skin, charcoal black hair with the most piercing green eyes. I looked nothing like her. I did however and to this day look like my Nana. Same curly hair ( yes I have extremely curly hair I have to straighten this shit everyday!) same olive skin tone, but better than all that the same sense of humor. My Nana was a tell it how you see it kind of woman. Christmas was her favorite time of year. So much that later in life she would die around Christmas. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Being that my mom had so many siblings that was bound to bring a lot of cousins. My Nana always started shopping for Christmas the day after Christmas lol. She would collect shit over the entire year just to give it to you that Christmas. Each grandchild world get up to six or seven gifts from her. The fact that there was like 50 of us to shop for must have been horrible. She had a gigantic tree that was always beautifully decorated. Around it were walls packed with gifts,sorted out by my aunts and uncles. My mom and I would walk over to our corner and open our gifts. My mom had some weird love for make-up (she passed that on to me) so my Nana always gave her one of those huge make-up kits. I would get clothes and toys and money. I loved being here. I had all of my cousins and family. I am sorry to say that since my Nana passed away a few years ago my family hardly speaks. We were held together by my Nana. She would cook and make us all come over just to spend time with her. 
Before my Nana passed away I was able to see her for the first time in years. I was now with my new “Grandparents” and they were more eager to meet her than I was. (since I am talking about the holidays I want to skip parts but it was hard for me to go back to her house. That house has some horrible memories in it for me but this is one of the better ones.) We pulled down the infamous long driveway to her house. I opened my door slowly, I was nervous. I walked to the door like I had many times before and I knocked. I had never in my life knocked on this door. If you knew my Nana you would know her grand kids were her life. “COME IN!!!” I heard her voice. I opened the door and there she stood like she had stood many times before. On the ledge of the wooden floor to her kitchen. I remember that ledge well. She would not let us drink anything in the living room so we would have to sit there lol. I walked in and to my left I saw my Pap Paw (grandfather) I hugged him but it was very quick. It was almost uncomfortably quick. ( my book explains why) I walked towards her. I hugged her so tight. I missed her. I had missed her dark curly hair and the way her house always smelled of amazing food. How her laughter warmed my heart, but more so than anything that she for the first time made me feel like she loved me.
Because of my moms relationship with my family and what my father had done, it made it hard for me to see family. After my father went to jail I would visit my Nana but it never felt the same. As we sat there my Nana brushed her hand across my face and told me how beautiful I was and how she felt like she was looking at herself. “I see you grew out of your baby fat!” Just like her to be honest. It was true I had grown out of my baby fat! I had boobs! I was 14 and she had not seen me since I was 10. She brushed her fingers through my hair and told me how long it was getting. She was for once admiring me. I had never been on her favorites list. She had a group of my cousins she adored! She asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink I said no.She said she made my favorite and that she would pack me some to take home. Her spaghetti is by far the best spaghetti I have ever had in my life. My cousins and I can agree to this day that my Nana was like an angel of foods. (she was a chef in her younger years) After sitting there a moment she began to talk to my foster-adoptive parents. (Jan and Paul) They talked about me in school and how I am doing with life. After what seemed like forever my Nana looked at me and said she had years worth of things to give me. I was nervous.
One by one the gifts came. I could not believe it. I had every boy band and girl group cd made at that time! I had more Hello Kitty things than I could handle. She had bought me gift after gift, after gift! i told her thank you and hugged her tight. I missed her. I would have held her tighter had I of known this would be the last time I saw her alive.
I did not speak to my family very much after I was placed into foster care. They had nothing to do with me. I did not matter to them. Regardless of what they say now and have continued to say I know they did not care. Had they of cared I would have never been placed in such horrible foster homes. I am grateful to them for not caring. If it was not for their lack of love of a CHILD I would have never found what I call my family now.
One day while in the 8th grade I was eating lunch with the normal group I always sat with. I am happy to say that I speak to at least one of them a day (to this day). On a back note like I said before my family comes from old money and my family is well-known in Paulding County. My uncle built the Cotton Gin and if it was prom and you were not there then you were out of the cool club lol. I went to school with my cousin. Daniel was the well-known redneck in school. He played football and dated the hottest cheerleader. (Devon) A year before that his brother Kenny ruled our school with his ever so charming good looks. It made me sick.How can you be family with someone and see them and not speak to them… anyways. I was eating lunch and Devon (Daniels girl friend) walked over to my table and said “I am so sorry about your loss. I know you all loved your Grandmother very much!” I looked at her like she had lost her damn mind. ” Daniel was so upset. Are you meeting them at the service?” My Nana had died…. my family could not even tell me. This is how I found out.
I ran to my teacher and told them I needed to call home. I walked to the front desk and told the assistant to please look up my aunt Lisa’s number (Daniels mom who was a bus driver for our school). My spoke to my aunt and asked her if it was true. She started to cry and said that Nana had died and they had no way of letting me know. ( Besides seeing my family everyday in school I thought this was complete bullshit!) She told me the service was today at 3:30pm. It was already 11:45am. What in the hell was I going to do. I frantically called my foster dad (Paul) and told him what had happened. He told me he was on his way. I later found out he had dropped what he was doing to come get me. He left his lunch sitting on his desk.lol. When he got to my school it was already 1:45pm. He worked in Atlanta so it was a hike! He was already ready since he wore a suit to work. We ran by our house I changed and put on the black dress I had worn to see her for the first time in many years. I never wore this dress again.
As we pulled up to the service I thought I was going to be sick. Not only was I going to see my grandmother dead but I had to see all of my family. My mother was not even there. I had not seen my mother in years I was hoping she would be here. As soon as I walked in everyone turned around. “Oh doesn’t she look just like her mother.” and more whispers “You know I think she looks like Nana.” I wanted to turn around and leave. “TANA! Oh, Tana you made it.” I felt my aunt grab me and hug me. My aunt had seen me many times since she was a bus driver for the school. She would check on me every once in a while at school. ” Come and see Nana she looks beautiful.” It’s true, she did. Her hair was in their normal beautiful locks of curls and her skin was pale with a hint of rose on her cheeks. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. I felt a tear drop. While writing this I feel a tear drop now. I think about how growing up and my mom had to be placed in hospitals that my Nana would let me stay with her. She would make me my favorite. Fried Bologna sandwiches for breakfast.(I no longer eat that lol the thought of them make me sick) Or how she would yell for me. “TANA CLARA” or the infamous “LITTLE TANA!!!” ( I was called little Tana because I have an aunt whose name is Tana. I am still referred as Little Tana *sad face*)
As we followed to the plot she would be laid to rest I thought about grief and losing people. I just got her back and she was gone. It’s like she held out long enough to see me and then she left. It was so hard to be reunited with my family for this reason. Did losing her mean we would be together? She was the glue to that side of my family. My holidays have never since been the same. I still have the flowers from her funeral. I placed them in a beautiful frame with the picture I have of me and her from that Christmas. With it is her name and her birth date and when she died. My middle name is Clara, after my Nana. I miss her so much. I know she is so proud of me now.
** I am now 22 years old and I still have the Hello Kitty notebook she gave me. I refuse to write in it. Maybe ill put it to great use one day 
**
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