There is no Christmas spirit here…

This time of year is always a bit rough for me.

I lost both my mother and my father in December.

My birthday is coming up and I haven’t had a birthday celebration of any kind since I was ten years old. No one has bothered.

On top of all the facts, my depression has kicked into full gear. The “I feel invisible” kind of depression. The kind of depression that makes it hard to breathe, to speak…to do anything…Am I even here?

I miss my parents, my kids and my grandchildren so badly.

I want lights and decorations and a tree…I want to be able to shop for my grands..to send presents. Better yet, I want us all to be together. I want it to matter to them that I can’t be there…I’m not sure that it does.

I want to put up my little tree, put on some Christmas music and force the feeling to come…but I don’t think that it will.

So, I am going to make a rather odd request. A request that will sound strange maybe…but, I don’t care. I’m wondering if ya’ll would be willing to send me a Christmas card?

I know that I sound so pathetic right now..but, I just want SOMEONE to wish me a Merry Christmas (Happy Holidays)…I need encouragement so much right now. I am even going to post my address on here…because honestly? What does it matter if half the world knows where I live???

Kim Hood

3901 Darien Hwy Apt D31

Brunswick, Ga. 31525

Fear in the Middle of the Night

The sound of my dogs barking startled me from a sound sleep. I jumped out of bed, my feet cold on the old linoleum floor. I reached the living room where the dogs were in their kennels, and that’s when I heard the soft tap, tap, tap on the front door. I ran back to my room, confused, wondering what time it was, grabbed my cell phone and saw that it was, 12:45 A.M. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. There was no way I was opening the door at this hour, not in this neighborhood! Unable, because of my short stature, to view anything through the peephole, I ran to the next room, and opened the window. “Who the hell is it”, I yelled in my most firm voice, hoping to sound more pissed off than scared. There on my porch was a woman I have met casually two or three times around the neighborhood, even inviting her in on one occasion to give her a couple cigs and chat. I knew from the few encounters with “T” that she was not someone I wanted to get close to, something just didn’t feel “right” about her.

Now, here she was, standing on my porch in the middle of the night. She appeared to be extremely intoxicated, and unable to comprehend how pissed off I was for this rude awakening. “It’s me “T”  she said. “I know who you are,” I replied, “it’s almost one in the morning! You woke me up and got my dogs going nuts! You need to leave!” The woman swayed, and repeated who she was, and kept looking around her, like she was waiting for someone to come looking for her. “You don’t come to my house at this hour! You NEED to f*cking leave, NOW,”  I yelled. I slammed the window down, making sure to lock it, and watched as the woman stood on the porch a moment, as if deciding what to do next. When I looked out again, she was gone.

About fifteen minutes later, I was sitting on my bed, trying to calm down enough to go back to sleep, and then…my cell phone rang. I jumped at the sound, my heart pounding once again. I wasn’t going to answer, but I was pissed. “What?” I yelled as I answered it. The voice of a strange man on the other end, sounding very drunk asked, “Who’s this”? “You called me,” I said, “who the hell is this?” I can’t recall what he said his name was, I only noticed how drunk he sounded, and how nervous it made me. I was especially concerned with how little time had passed between the knock on my door and this phone call, I just kept up my “tough girl pissed off” persona, told him he had the wrong number, and hung up.

I called the police after that. I mean, my husband is away on business, and I was really shook up. They sent an officer over, and I retold all that had taken place in the past half hour. He took down my description of “T”, and the strange phone call, and told me he would be cruising the neighborhood several times tonight, and to call again if I needed him, this made me feel somewhat better. After I had time to calm down, I remembered that the man on the phone had said something about  finding my number in his wife’s phone. I did a reverse search of the number he called from, and it wasn’t even listed as a cell phone, it was a land-line about five blocks from my house! This really freaked me out, and I started to cry. I tried to call my husband down in Florida where he is working. I hated to phone him at two in the morning, but I needed someone to calm me down, some reassuring voice…he didn’t answer his cell. It wasn’t even on, went straight to voice mail. REALLY? I tried again, nothing. I attempted to call my sister after that, and her ringer was off for the night, got her answering service. OMGosh…I mean, what if something really bad had happened to me? Let me get this straight, if I get into an accident, or am murdered by some drunk, home invading psycho at 2 AM I guess no one wants to know about it…well, at least not until a decent hour.

This whole incident has left me feeling more alone than ever. What man doesn’t have a way for his family to reach him when he’s on the road, even if it is the middle of the night, ESPECIALLY in the middle of the night? I know my sister keeps hers ringer off because of bill collectors calling…but, I really, truly have no one. I am on my own when it comes to this stuff…like, needing comfort. I am completely on my own, always have been since I was 14 years old. You’d think I would be used to the idea by now… I can’t depend on anyone, even when they should be there for me.

Come Home Soon…

The loneliness is palpable. I know you had to go, and I try to stay busy. I do the every day, mundane things…wash the dishes, the clothes, the floors. I play with the dogs, pay the bills, put out the trash, and call friends and family so I don’t completely lose my mind. But, when the nighttime comes, and the day is gone, I long to have you here. The house actually echos as I walk from room to room.  I want to talk  with you, hold you, be held by you. It’s been what…a month since you left? I can’t even recall, but it feels like forever. I try to stay grateful that you are working, and I am truly thankful. We have gone through so much, just waiting for you to have work, so we can survive, eat, pay the rent. I am so proud of you. You have worked your fingers to the bone, sometimes for not even enough to do what we needed to do, but you’ve never quit, never given up. I am blessed to have you as my husband. 
As I sit here tonight, I am being selfish. I just want you here. You see, it’s great that the roof is paid for, but without you under this roof it is just a house, not a home. I miss our joking. Oh, how I miss your arms around me, the way you take my hand and dance with me in the dining room as we have our Sunday morning coffee and tea. Sigh…I miss you baby, come home soon. We need you.
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