Unexpected sadness

I had the opportunity to take my oldest, Sprite, to the movies with her American Heritage Girls troop this past week.

It has been over a year since we ventured to the movie theater.

So, to make this outing extra special, Sprite requested we wear matching pajamas.

I was immediately down for this set-up.

Unfortunately, the only matching set we had were Christmas ones we purchased a couple of years ago.

These particular pajamas are tied to the memories of my Dad’s last Christmas.

Just the thought of searching for these clothes made me think about him, but what I didn’t expect was the heavy sadness that accompanied merely getting ready.

I finally located them in the bottom of my pajama basket (I have these instead of drawers), and I was immediately flooded with vivid memories of my Dad.

I remember him wearing his complementary set – the Men’s style was a Navy shirt with the same colorful pajama pants.

I remember all the inside jokes we tossed back and forth Christmas morning.

I remember Christmas was one of the last times I really saw him smile.

I remember his declining health in the days following.

And, I remember holding his hand as he passed.

All of those memories and more, just from a seemingly silly pair of Christmas pajamas.

Even as the sadness washed over me, I put on the pajamas.

I put them on because it mattered to my kiddo.

Making new memories in these pajamas was important.

Normalizing the display of grief in every day life is essential.

So, I did.

My sadness didn’t disappear, but, now I have a new memory attached to the them.

One where for just a little bit, I didn’t have a care in the world and my only focus was enjoying a kids movie with my daughter.