I am sitting here with all three of your sisters napping. Amazing, right? I’m pretty impressed with my skills, if I do say so myself.
Holidays are especially hard for us since you aren’t here to celebrate with us. I try to avoid any conversation or thought that involves imagining what you would be doing if you were still here. Those are “twist the knife” moments that just add insult to injury. I try to focus on making new memories with your spirit nearby.
I finally had a moment to write to you (see paragraph 1 and reference my 3 sleeping daughters). As I began conceptualizing my letter to you, my automatic thought is sadness that you aren’t here. I’m so amazed that there is another feeling overshadowing my sadness. How did that happen? I remember a time not too long ago when I couldn’t imagine living another day without you. And now, here I am…happy.
The thought makes me want to cry. How did I get here? What does it mean? I still feel terribly sad and I haven’t “moved on”, but I also feel happy.
Happiness after a loss is so tricky. If I express this feeling, will people think I’ve moved on and stop taking about you? Will they try to tell me, once again, that I need to “move forward”? I don’t want to hear any of that. I don’t want to hear what people think I should do or allow them to put labels or mile markers on my grief.
What I’ve discovered during this journey, my truth if you will, is that I have to share it with anyone and everyone no matter the consequences. I share my sad times and my happy times, the moments of clarity and confusion, and celebrate each moment of my life in public. I leave myself open to judgement, to well wishers and ill wishers, to God and to darkness. What have I got to lose?
I know for certain that God is with me at all times and I know that I have been called to share our story. It’s not a story of loss, it’s a story of hope rising from the dust of your grave. It’s about bringing people to Jesus because his father did something I could never do. I live without my son because I have no choice, He gave His son freely to us, for us.
As this year steamrolls to an end, I wish everyone in my life “Joy in the good times, peace in the hard times, and love at all times.”
Merry Christmas baby boy. I love you endlessly.
Always and forever,