I can hear my children running down the stairs of our family home anxious to see what awaits them under the tree. I can hear them whisper and giggle as they take down their stockings from the stairway railing. I can see the cats running and jumping wildly among the wrapped gifts, pawing at the ribbons and batting at the dangling tree ornaments. I can smell the coffee in my hand as I watch the scene before me unfold and I can hear the click of the camera as my husband captures each moment. The warmth of the memory makes me smile and I almost miss the tears running down my cheeks. I sigh a long, deep, sad sigh. Memories are all that remain.
From the decorating of the house to the cutting of the tree, nothing has been the same. Though I have attempted to make things as 'normal' and traditional as always, there is a lingering sadness that just wont shake away. My boys have done their part to keep spirits light and jolly but their eyes do not lie and my heart breaks for them. When will we be free of this darkness? It seems we may never be.
What I have come to realize is that time does not heal all wounds. Time gives you opportunity to learn to live with your hurt. Because living is what we must do despite what life hurls at us.
My boys have an entire life ahead of them and my hope is they will remember with fondness the traditions we established early on in their lives. And though we have been forced to change those traditions a bit, I hope they will appreciate the attempt to carry them on despite the holes.
As I dry my tears for what feels like the millionth time this year, I have to smile as the cats bat at the dangling tree ornaments, knocking dry needles from the tree. This Christmas will not be like the twenty Christmases before. It will be different. As will the Christmases that follow. But the memories will remain forever and new memories will soon be made.
This Christmas marks the beginning of something new....
Dear Rin---Last night as we were wrapping your family's presents, I was reflecting on Christmases past in my own family. It was bittersweet because as much as I loved coming together with my sister's family and my folks and as great the pleasure of watching my son with his cousins, aunt and uncle, and grandparents, I know those times would never be had again. That stage of life had been replaced by another whether I was ready or not. Those were the best moments of my life, those times when the people I loved most were all together in one place. I treasure the memory but feel the absence.
ReplyDeleteThe loss you feel must be ever more sharp because it was imposed on you, neither sought or welcome. But, you have given your boys the love and warmth of family and home---the stuff from which good memories are made. You have made the very best of very bad circumstances and you have accomplished that with uncommon courage and compassion that is truly remarkable. Your boys are very fortunate.
As I read this my eyes tear as I can remember your Christmas mornings even though we never experienced them together. Long chats over coffee and many photos discussing the details of our mornings and our boys are etched into my memory as well.
ReplyDeleteThis year was thrust upon you. Given to you without your consent and I am so proud of you and your love for your boys, your courage, your unending grace.
Unfortunaltely this year has held a lot of firsts that we all wish had never happended but you my cousin, my friend, have encountered your days, your challenges, your new life head on.
I love you. I love your boys. I love that you are attempting to make this Christmas, this YEAR, as normal as possible for them. I know it isn't normal but it is a new normal...everyday you are making decisions, making memories that will touch your life and your boys lives forever. Everyday you amaze me. I love you forever.