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Thursday, December 31, 2015

On the 7th Day of Christmas

It had finally arrived.  The snowman’s nose finally got to the number that told us Santa would be here that night.  The excitement radiated off of her and it literally is what got me through the days to follow.  Granted, there were lots of tears, the occasional sob escaping, but I made sure to show our baby girl just how much joy she manages to slip into every moment of my days.



Christmas eve was spent with Sean’s mom, step-dad, and my sister’s family.  Prior to my parents making the move upstate to be closer, this was a sewn together family night that we’ve always looked forward to.  The kids tore through their gifts, ecstatic to see the Paw Patrol appear on many of the presents from Baba and Pappy.  I watched my excited sister pass down her beloved dollhouse that had once belonged to our great-aunt, our Tanta, and made by our great-grandpa to the little girl she loves so much. 








Our bellies were filled with delicious food as the table was filled with laughter.  Any time I seemed to feel myself getting overwhelmed my eyes would find Sean’s and I felt a bit more at ease again. 



We took the traditional Christmas jammie picture and it was amazing me how much our babies have grown and how much they love one another.  My heart ached as I imagined what these pictures would have looked like with Jack in them.  Perfect.  It would have looked perfect.  While it will never be a complete photo again, the results were sprinkled with Christmas magic nonetheless.

2012

2013

2014


Sean and I played Santa, him eating the cookies, me setting up to make the morning scene just right, and the both of us all too happy to give Buddy the boot until next year.




In the morning, when she woke, she was a maniac.  Not to open her gifts though, like I assumed, but to give her Daddy his present and the check to make sure the puppies got their gifts too.  She had to take a few breaks here and there while making her way through the gifts (I could hear her father telepathically saying,” I told you, you went overboard.”).  After the morning chaos, which I promise I loved and inhaled deeply, I felt physically exhausted my how much I missed my baby boy.




Before gathering up presents and heading to my parent’s temporary homestead, we stopped by to visit Jack and wish him a Merry First Christmas.  Kennedy rushed over to hold up and show him her favorite toy of the moment shouting, “Look Jack! Look what I got! It’s Paw Patrol Skye!”  My brother Dylan happened to be there too and as we were wrapping up our visit my youngest brother, Al, pulled up.  My heart melted that these boys came to see their youngest nephew on Christmas.  As we were leaving Kennedy said, “Goodbye Jackie, Mewwy Cwismas!” Instantly, my baby brothers crumpled, they aren’t used to hearing a little girl express genuine love for a little boy she never even met but still seems to love so deeply.  They stayed a little longer and, like me, moved on to the next part of the day.

My parent’s little apartment, though far from the size of the home they said goodbye to just a month ago, was still filled with love, laughing, loud voices and Christmas dinner. We exchanged presents, some eliciting unexpected tears.  For my parents it was the colored-pencil sketch of their old home that Sean and I had made, and for me it was the Christmas stocking my mother knitted for Jack.  It took my breath away.  He will have a place in our Christmas tradition.  I felt a foreign peacefulness in my heart looking at it. 






Christmas came to a close and it was as good as it could be with people missing from it, my brother Phil and his family, and Jack Holden.



The past few days have filled with returns, playing in the first snow of the season, a visit from Sean’s dad and step-mom, playing the games Santa brought over and over again, and some practice in the new hockey gear.






Excessive celebration from Daddy

A little sore losing


Tonight we will ring in the New Year with a few friends, hoping to welcome the year on an upbeat note.  Last year we played it low key, I was huge and tired and overwhelmed by all the changes that were coming soon.  I wrote in the journal my aunt had given me, as I vowed to do to help me deal with all of the changes that would be taking place.  As I re-read the words, I feel so many things, nostalgic, regret, anger at myself.  Things really have changed, just not as I ever expected them to.





Last year I asked the year to be kind, this year I am on my knees, begging.
Happy New Year to you and yours.

xo


1 comment:

  1. Your experience, dear Patricia, as difficult as it is, as you share it so poetically with the world, in spite of your immense pain and loss, is for someone out there, someone you don't know, the comfort they need. Be not weary of sharing. Thank you for your transparency. Blessings!
    Hugs,
    Anabela Mendes

    ReplyDelete