I feel a bit wistful that there are people across this country with their family members visiting and stockings hung up somewhere with brightly colored gifts under the tree. There are teens sitting around with their headphones on and aunts & uncles talking about their children's accomplishments and stumbles. There are couples trying to juggle the family time (his? or hers? this year). And there are parents checking the clock so they can send the little ones to bed before Santa arrives.

And I sit here wanting to cry.

Still, I made the choices that led me to this moment and if I feel lonesome it's my own doing. Even without those choices, my family isn't very big. There aren't dozens of children or lots of aunts & uncles. There aren't lots of couples. There is only me. And my own 2 children. The family I described doesn't belong to me, it belongs to K.

Am I feeling sorry for myself? Yes, a little. I'm aware that I have it better than some. I'm still working. I am healthy and getting healthier.  My kids are growing up strong and intelligent and full of the wonder of life. And yet... I still want to crawl into a corner somewhere and weep for what I do not have.