2020 was the Christmas that never happened, at least for me. I’m not a victim. It was not the time. I’ve had a book to write and the intense concentration can be all-consuming. To a writer, frame of mind is everything.

I’ve yet to open a single gift. I apologize to those who sent something to me, and I’ll explain.

Getting over the death of Mathilda in September has been the most difficult loss I’ve ever had to overcome. She was at my side for every possible moment for fifteen years. I just can’t reconcile her absence no matter how hard I think about it. She wasn’t just a dog to me. She was a philosopher in her own unique way.

I think I’m doing just fine, then something happens and it’s like someone clubbed me over the head with a baseball bat and I’m feeling the loss all over again, like it just happened. Everyone tells me, it will get better. So far, not so much, but like always, I lean towards doing something positive and working on my book was just the distraction I needed.

One of Mathilda’s favorite’s was opening gifts. It’s why I can’t look at one now. We have no idea why or how she found it to be so much fun but I could hand her any gift and she’d instinctively find the seam and tear the wrapper off without damaging the gift. She took great joy in holding a box with her paws and pulling the paper off as if the sound of the tear was the most important part. For most of her fifteen years, any gift I received in front of her was handed over for her to unwrap with an enthusiastic tail wag.

This was my first holiday without her, and even though Tide is here, he can’t possibly plug the massive hole left in my life. We go for quiet walks and I think about her.

My go to, no matter how bad things get, is to do something positive, so diving into writing an 87,000 word book felt like the best use of my time. The hardest part of writing that book was not repeating anything in the book. You forget where or how you said something and are constantly in the book to make sure it all flows in the right order. Just that point of focus was enough to get me through the holidays.

Now that the second draft is done, it’s time to add more color to the book, and make sure it’s a fun read, without getting too flat or draggy. Then, off to the editor for final cleanup. I’m sure time will help me get over the loss, but in the meantime, keeping myself buried in my work is what works best.