Every year the Prouty family (Jim and Vanessa) hosts a christmas party, which Penny and I would attend, sometimes with stress and hassle (lateness, tiredness, Penny not feeling well but not knowing why from gallstones that we didn't get treated soon enough, or having attacks of the I am Too Fat to be Seen by Humans) and sometimes with no stress and great enjoyment of lights on the way. Well, always a tiny bit of stress because it's a bit of a dress-up, but not to the extent of actually being full-formal, just an excuse to dress nicely. Nevertheless, for over 20 years, it's been a tradition, only skipping once or twice for bad weather or for family losses.

And, last year, Penny was exhausted and sick (we didn't yet know just HOW sick, and we'd gotten a false negative and thought that it wasn't cancer) so we stayed at home and watched a movie and snuggled.

This will be the first Christmas since 1979 that I haven't spent with her, at least for some significant part.
It's the first Christmas since 1976 that I didn't get her a gift. I'm going to the party because she told me to go, although I doubt that I'll stay for the whole thing - I just ... if it triggers, I'm out of there.

I've been fixing some dinner/lunch/whatevers for a friend from church - a different one this time, the wife of the man who was my third Stephen Ministry care receiver, a long-time survivor of Multiple Sclerosis who was finally unable to stay at home, because she had become too frail to care for him properly. I have been spared so much suffering and so much misery, in having this finish quickly.

I just made a batch of peanut brittle, and I'll be heading over to the store, to get some salads, and then to her place, and then to the Prouty party.