We have a Christmas tree this year. My husband bought it and put it up while I was in Nevada visiting my mother. It isn't tall or beautiful. It's small and it isn't real. Truthfully it's kind of a Charlie Brown tree with paper pine needles but it has lights and brightens the parlor and makes the entryway cheerful. The only thing I've hung on it so far is a single candy cane. It looks lonesome hanging there all by it self. Why does that solitary candy cane remind me of Christian and how much I miss him? But then everything seems to remind me of how much I miss him this time of year. There are so many reminders: Thanksgiving, his birthday, Christmas, the anniversary of his death. Too many. I don't have time to get over one before another arrives and comes crashing in on me.
I want so badly to enjoy the holidays but I can't even bring myself to go to the store and you can just forget the mall. I've tried it twice now with bad results. When I was in Nevada, my Mom wanted to go to Target to walk around and get some exercise because it was a cold, rainy, windy day - windy like it can only be in the desert - and she didn't want to be outside. Reluctantly I went with her and came home with such a heavy heart. I don't know why Christmas shopping makes me so sad but it does. I suppose because Christian took such pleasure in it. Every gift was selected with the greatest care. It made him so happy. So full of joy and anticipation of the moment when his gift would be opened. He was a man but so much like a little boy on Christmas morning. My heart would overflow with love watching him.
This year we have a Christmas tree. Last year - Christian's first Christmas in Heaven - we had no tree and no presents. No ribbons or bows. No lights.
I like our little tree. I love the way the baby crawls over to it and it lights up his beautiful little face in different colors. With two little fingers he gently grasps the paper pine needles and the lighted bulbs. There is such magic in watching him discover the beauty of Christmas. I find my joy in watching him. He is such a happy little guy and he brings so much happiness into our lives.
He lives with his Uncle Ken and Auntie Stephanie now and only comes for visits. He was here this weekend. How I love taking him out of his crib in the early morning when he is still warm and cuddly from sleep. He gives me the biggest smile and then lifts his little arms out to me to pick him up. How that warms my heart. I know that they love him and take really good care of him; and they may love him as much as I do but they will never love him more.
Now I dreaded Christmas last year but it arrived right on schedule as it does every year. Each family unit made their way to my daughter's house, and not only was it not bad it was wonderful. Such warmth, such love. We talked about Christian but we were not consumed with sadness because our memories of him were full of laughter and good times spent together. That is why I don't dread Christmas this year. I just can't get excited about it. This emotion isn't exclusively mine. I know survivors all over the world are feeling the same way.
I wish we could all get together and give each other a giant warm group hug. We could cry a little if we wanted to, laugh if we felt like it, and then sit in silence and be reflective. And it would all be okay because we would understand; and there would be no need for explanation.
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