This Body is Bullshit

What 2026 Will Bring

It’s Monday and the Midwest is doing its cruel thing — yesterday was 50 degrees, today it’s 7. Raw and bitter and deeply rude. I really wanted snow on Christmas. Didn’t get it. But overall, the holidays went really well, and I’m coming off a weekend that was full in the best and hardest ways.

I did make it to the prime rib dinner Friday night, just late. Delicious as always. Aunt Susie makes everything festive and beautiful and thoughtful — she really is something else. I love spending time with Maggie’s boys. They bring such good energy into a room.

It was a little odd though.

Maggie’s husband — who, let’s be honest, is not my biggest fan, and honestly I get it, I did something years ago that landed wrong and he has never forgotten it, nor does he have to — was surprisingly warm this year. It started with a hug, which caught me completely off guard since the previous standing instruction had been no hugging. No touching at all, actually. So I genuinely did not know what to do with my body. I took it as progress and kept moving. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter whether he likes any of us — as long as Maggie and those beautiful boys of hers are happy. That’s all I need.

Christmas Eve was relaxed and casual — fajitas from Alfredo’s, which was perfect. The owner is just the sweetest man. So genuinely grateful for the business. I hope his restaurant thrives because that kind of warmth deserves it. Grace was a little off — snippy with me, acting like I was the dumbest person in the room. When she gets like that I never really know what’s going on in her emotional world. I try not to react in front of everyone, but I do quietly let her know I won’t be spoken to that way. She really won’t have it when I do, and I don’t think she even realizes when she’s doing it — which is interesting given her entire psychology background. My stepmom jokingly threatened to separate us at the table. It made me sad that everyone noticed, but we still laughed and ate well and enjoyed being together with the family and the dogs. That’s what matters.

I do my best to create Christmas magic. I probably spend too much on presents, but I truly love giving gifts. Watching people open them and hopefully love them brings me real joy. I don’t care much about receiving — though I did get a few really nice ones this year. Christmas morning at home was cozy and simple, still in pajamas. I didn’t get the backpack to carry Frank in, but that’s okay. We got dressed and headed to the annual family brunch at the Wilsons’ — grab bag where stealing is encouraged, chaos ensues, never disappoints. Came home, napped, mentally prepared for work on Friday.

Ken stayed with us Wednesday through Sunday morning, which felt really good. I was glad he wasn’t alone. He absolutely adores Fiona and she loves him right back — good for both of them.

Yesterday was the highlight of the whole stretch. My stepsister Crissy and her family came over, which almost never happens since they live in New Jersey. Usually when they’re in Illinois they’re up north with Kevin’s family, and in the past when Wes was still alive it was just hard to coordinate time together. I used to feel hurt by that, but I understand now. Crissy was honestly one of the first people I watched truly use boundaries as a way to survive, and I’ve tried to learn from her example. Her making the effort to come down and spend time at our house and at Dad and Kathy’s meant everything. We played games with the kids and my heart felt full in that quiet deep way. I miss them more than I say.

I took them to our friends’ incredible property to see the lights. They had no idea what to expect and were completely blown away. They didn’t even realize half the lights were out because of a massive rainstorm earlier in the day — which was a bummer — but it was still magical.

I love Christmas. But it hits differently now. Having Crissy’s kids and my cousins’ little ones around brings some of that magic back — especially now that Grace is grown and that particular version of Christmas has passed. It’s sad, but it’s life. I soaked up every bit of it anyway.

Physically I’m in a lot of pain, which makes everything more exhausting. The holiday busyness layered on top of everything else has made the brain fog worse — though I’m grateful my oncologist confirmed it’s the meds, not dementia. Small mercies. And underneath all the joy there’s that quiet grief that creeps in around this time of year — missing my mom, watching my dad slip further, worrying about Kathy who is overwhelmed and frustrated and doing more than anyone should have to do. I don’t blame her. I just don’t know what to do.

Christmas is strange like that. Joyful and warm and fun and also sad and heavy and melancholy, all living in the same week.

I can’t help but wonder what 2026 will bring.