December 25, 2019

For a while last night, the house was completely quiet.  The kids were all gone sledding and I had a moment to stop, and notice the present, to be in the moment.   I sat staring at the angel tree.  For a moment I felt the constant nagging pain of missing him.  There isn’t one second of any day that I haven’t felt his physical presence gone from this earth.  Even though I feel his “presence” almost constantly.  

This year Noah was really concerned we might forget him somehow.  As if we ever could.  He was insistent that we will have an empty chair for Hayden.  I have been thinking a lot about that.  How worried he is of us forgetting.  What I wonder though is if he is worried about forgetting.  He turned six the day his brother died.  He had an entire lifetime of memories, but it was only six years.  Six short years.  The other day he told me that his memories of my dad are fuzzy.  That he can barely remember him in his mind now.  Is that what he is worried about?  His memories of Hayden becoming fuzzy?    We had an empty chair.  I need to take extra time to have everyone share their memories so I can give him something to hold on to.  To reassure him his brother will always be remembered... how could we ever forget part of our heart???   My heart breaks over HIS fears and heartache.  When you are a mom, you feel like it’s your job to make all the hurts go away.  Even when it’s impossible.

I look at the angel bear.  That the nurse so lovingly put on Hayden’s chest.  To capture the final moments of his physical heart beating.  A treasure.  My angel.  

Today will never, ever be the same.  Christmas feels different.  The excitement and wonder of a house full of tiny children is over... in the past.  There is nothing like that.  That, to me, was the wonder of Christmas.  There is so little that makes me feel that kind of joy on this day.  I worry that I didn’t give enough, do enough.  Kids grow up.  They grow families of their own.  My mother-heart rejoices in that.  And mourns the changes too.  Today my rejoicing is more solemn.  Today I am grateful for the true meaning.  That the Savior conquered death.  That one day the empty chairs will be filled again.  That the beating hearts that stopped, will one day beat again.  One day there will only be hellos.  Never again goodbyes.  This Christmas has been hard.  They will all be hard.  I know that.  And even knowing they are hard, doesn’t mean I am having a hard time.  I’m just feeling.  Allowing the emotions to go through me.  They fill in the empty spots and make me more grateful.  But the pain won’t go away.  Not ever.  I wouldn’t want it to.  Like Noah... I don’t want my memories to get fuzzy.  If feeling those memories brings pain... so what?!?!?  It also brings joy.  Joy that I got to experience life in a way that makes me ache because they have passed by.   The memories also bring peace.  Beautiful peace.

Because a baby was born, grew up, taught us how to live, died, and because he conquered death and was resurrected, I get to have joy.  Perfect joy.  Even if the memories leak out as tears down my face.  There is still joy.

Merry Christmas.