Unseasonably Blah

You hear that? It's the sound of silence. It's the first time in months somebody hasn't been up, or talking on the phone or watching television, or even just wandering to the bathroom in this house. In a few minutes Mike will be getting up for work, but for now there is quiet, a deep settling silence that has fallen on the house.
It used to be when the kids were little, they had a bed time, a time when they were expected to brush their teeth, bathe and take their tiny jammied behinds to bed and be still. I miss those days, when quiet would sink into the house and all would be still. I would be bone tired from working 12 hour shifts and I would revel in the quiet. I would play music softly in the background while reading a text book, studying. I would mute the phone, the animals would be softly snoring, and for a few hours the house would be so quiet I could hear the refrigerator.
We haven't had that type of quiet for a long time now. High school cures quiet and it stays resolved until the kids move out. Now the door opens at every hour of the day and night. The kitchen is in full use whether it is 3 AM or 12 noon. TV's run nearly constantly and stereos blast the newest up and coming artist. Such is the life of parents of college age people. I have been recently informed they are no longer children, rightly so, but are adults. I have compromised and now refer to them as young people, since I am considerably older than they are.
Yesterday was the day I would usually decorate the house from stem to stern with all of my beautiful Christmas decorations. The house would get scrubbed clean from all the fall debris and rearranged to allow for my growing obsession with all things Santa. I didn't do it. Even though we are remodeling the kitchen, I still could have decorated the rest of the house, but I just didn't feel very Christmasy. I can't tell you why, because I have no idea what is holding me back this year. Maybe it's the political unrest, the ever tenuous economy, the noisy surroundings, or maybe it's just that I feel so tired all the time. I have no real idea what it is, but this year, I didn't have it in me to pull out all the boxes and start the process, let alone finish anything. I don't really have a good excuse. Years ago when it was just me and the kids, I worked 2 jobs, went to school and spent every waking minute doing or thinking about them. Even then I could manage enough energy to do my Christmas thing, with the few decorations we had. I would pull all nighters getting the house into Christmas shape. This year, I am off for a 4 day weekend, the first time in any of my illustrious careers, and I can't gather enough gumption to pull it together. Even running the vacuum seems inordinately hard right now. I did make an entire Thanksgiving dinner, so I have that going for me, but Christmas I am afraid may have to wait.
It has occurred to me since the retailers have jammed their "steals" down my throat for the past 2 weeks, that maybe that is why I am resistant, but truth be told, even that seems lame, since I never shop on this weekend anyway. Black Friday with all the pageantry of a drunken brawl is the anti-Christmas to me, so I avoid it like the plague. I am protesting the same protest every year where I purposely stay away from the stores believing to my core we cannot shop our way out of our own undoing. I know they say the economy is so dependent on this weekend, but I feel as though it is emotional blackmail for us who work so hard for so little. Since I have never participated and never believed in retail economics or Christmas being about presents surely this can not be the reason my mind and body are in avoidance about the upcoming holidays.
I have in fact, scoured my brain for reasons I may be hesitating and are at a loss. Maybe, just maybe, I am just tired. I had gone to the doctor one more time to check up on my lungs, which I had been blissfully unaware of until my incident with pneumonia. I told her I was tired. She poked and prodded and we talked about the stress of what is going on with my family. My insomnia was directly linked to stress. Yeah? No kidding. There was banter about sleeping aids, anti-anxiety meds all of which I gladly passed on. I am not a pill taker. I think it is because as a retired nurse I watched so many medical personnel take them like candy. We talked about a holistic approach and what I could do to make things easier on my body, that would not require a prescription. I'll be honest, I have not had enough energy to do that either. It takes effort to do stuff and I haven't felt that either.
I am not depressed, and right now I can honestly say even my usual neurosis is on hiatus. I am more blah than anything.
Today, I thought I might attempt cleaning a few rooms instead of the whole house, taking my time, not get wrapped up in the unreasonable annual expectations of what this weekend used to be and make it what it is this year and see where the day takes me. Maybe the trees will make their way out of boxes, maybe not. Maybe I will play Christmas music while I am cleaning or maybe I will play some funky 70's style Commodores. I have no idea what the day will bring, but for today I plan to have no plan. I confess that is big for me. My entire personality is based on having plans, making plans, following plans. Today I shall boldly go planless.
I miss the kids being small, tiny little hands and fingers intertwined with my own. I miss all the hoopla of elementary school, with band concerts, Christmas plays and my beloveds pink and shiny waiting impatiently for Santa to come, because when he showed up everything was magic. I miss the hopefulness I used to see in them. They are "realistic" now. They are working, paying bills, going to school, figuring out their own big life questions, facing daunting tasks, absorbing what the world is hurling at them. They are still a little pink, but their shine has been buffed down to a satin finish. Maybe that is the reason for my season this year. Maybe I am just home sick for a time when so much more was in front of us, when there were more questions than answers.
Whatever the reason, I forgive me. I forgive my slow to start to Christmas spirit. I forgive my noisy joints, my fading eye sight and my current inability to get it together. I am sure, certain to my bones about one thing: my enthusiasm will return, be it before the Christmas party on the calender, the weekend spent at the future farmer's of America barns or the first night we go sight seeing Christmas lights, the magic, the purity of the season will return to me, like a long lost child. When it does, I will gladly welcome it home.