Christmas Mourning

 

    Reed asks me how I can write such hard things. I can write them because that is what I am feeling. For me writing is what makes it better. In terms a mechanic would understand, it is my pressure release valve. We learned in Griefshare that articulated grief heals faster and even if it didn't, even if it did not help me or anyone else, I would still need to write.

 

Christmas Mourning

 

There was so much excitement on Christmas morning

when you kids were little,

stockings full of treats--even before breakfast.

It was controlled excitement though,

presents were opened one at a time

after telling something nice or fun

about the people who gave them.

 

Later, when you all were grown,

Christmas morning became calmer,

quieter, though our traditions continued.

Now your brother and sister

 have children and traditions of their own,

and the excitement of Christmas morning

has been reborn in our granddaughters.

But this year will be different

we have no pattern, no tradition

 for this kind of Christmas morning.

You are in heaven for this one

and I know, regardless of any celebration there,

that you are in a much happier

and more beautiful place than our home.

My mind accepts this, but my heart does not.

How can we have Christmas without our youngest son?

How can we still be a family 

when someone so loved,

such a big part of all of our lives, is missing?

This holiday, though still a gift of God,

 will begin with Christmas mourning. 

12/16/22