I’m sorry I don’t write more often, but it’s difficult to put a pen to paper or tap the keys on my laptop at times when I think of you. It’s almost Christmas and that was always your favorite holiday. You decorated the house the day after Halloween before disregarding Thanksgiving went mainstream. You were always ahead of the trends. This will be the third Christmas without you, but the first one that I’ll say out loud, “Mommy’s not coming back.”
I thought about you today. And yesterday. And I’ll think about you tomorrow and the day after that. Tears still stream down my face every day, but just like the days that you are no longer here to experience, they come and go as well. But luckily, I have friends who just hold my hand and let my tears run their course. They know this is me feeling again, it’s one of the ways I feel you in me.
Holidays are a tricky time of year. I acknowledge them, but not the way I did with you. To me, Christmas is just another day of the year, except I get dressed up with Daddy and we go to a nice dinner. My cough is coming back, but we always knew I’d be sick around Christmas. Why ruin tradition, right?
Christmas is still nice, Mommy, don’t get me wrong, but It’s just not the same. You’re the one that made is so special for everyone else. You’re the one that got us all the good presents. You’re the one that woke us up in the morning. You’re the one that always said you loved me more.
Sometimes I hear your laughter mixed with mine, a sound that was foreign to me after your departure to a far away place. I’m realizing now that I have to go through the rest of my Christmases without you; not just Christmases, but the rest of my life will go on without you. If you’re with me now (I like to think that you are), please don’t ever leave.
I promise I’ll see you again one day, just not now. Until then, I’ll listen for your laugh and see you in my dreams. Sometimes I lose myself in my own emotions, every single one of them. Don’t worry though, I’m happy, I swear. Missing you just takes up a lot of my energy. I know you’re not coming back though, because you’re already home.
Merry Christmas, Mommy – I love you, more.