My Annual Christmas Blues

Cambria's Big Fat Autistic Blog

Well, this is a pickle. I thought they would not come this year. After all, it’s not like I miss anyone who never calls, writes or sends anything.

But here I was, boohooing over the fact that relatives geographically close to my mother and me never even called or sent a Christmas card. I would love to pin those cards on full display around the kitchen doorway, on full display as I did in years past.

Why do I even worry or want to beg for love and affection from people who have none to give me?

My mother has her own way of dealing with these feelings of loneliness: she’s not going to hold a funeral. The logic is this: who would come? Or, who can really say goodbye when they never really said hello? She often says: “You don’t come when I’m alive, so don’t come when I’m…

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