Another Year Passes

This hangs on the wall of the bedroom My Love and I share. 
It has always been in the same spot. For some reason, it fell off of the wall today. 
I'd say it brought to surface all the things on my mind......but they were already there. 

My Momma gave this to me years ago.  She gave my sister one just like it. 

I remember....oh yes, "the" dates approach.  December 4th....when it all began.  And all the way through December 14th.

This ol' calendar of mine doesn't need to remind me of the dates approaching.  My body already knows.  My heart aches just a little bit more during this time of year.  My spirit is a little bit heavier.  My tears can fall just a little bit quicker.
I miss her dearly. 
My goodness, the things I wish I could talk to her about....the things I need her help with...the things I wish she were here for....the list goes on and on.

 

Of course I am different now than I was when my sweet Momma took her last breath. I was 27 when that hell came upon me.  It seems like forever ago, but seems like a week ago.  The years keep passing, I keep aging. 

But as the years go by, the grief  just doesn't leave. 

 

Grief merely changes, as we do with all the passing years.

  
How could it not? 

 

I miss my Momma in this 35 year old skin I walk around in.  One day, I will miss her in my 45 year old self.  But still...I will miss her.  I will always want to reach out to my Momma who can never reach back, and that is the harsh reality I live with everyday.  Harsh as it is, unwanted as it is, it just *is*. 

Grief is like that, you know.
Clinging to our very skin, never letting go. As it should be.

Because it clings to us the same way that four letter word clings to us, the same way LOVE, real love, clings.  It won't ever leave, because love doesn't walk away.  Neither will the grief it leaves behind. 

 

I miss her every moment, I miss her when we celebrate, I miss her when we endure hard times.  And though I miss her like the grown woman, wife, and mother that I am.....sometimes I still miss her as the little girl I used to be.

Twinkling Lights and Teary Eyes.

Even though the days have all piled up....even though there have been so many moments we've gone on to have without my sweet Momma, still...

There have only been a handful of Christmases without her.  Only several Thanksgivings. A small number of birthdays.

So yes, of course, absolutely, you bet, and rightly so---the holidays are full of ups and downs and highs and lows and laughter and tears and memories and hopes. 

Because she would have made them better...if only we still had her here with us.

 

Maybe the number of holidays without your loved one is different, maybe it is the first.  Maybe it is the thirty-seventh.  Either way, I see you, dear one.

 

I know I'm not the only one. 

I know there are others who feel that similar twinge of heartache when seeing someone out and about with their Momma and their own little child, all three together.  Giggling, shopping, coffee-ing, just enjoying the company of one another.
I know there are others who hear a certain Christmas carol that calls on the tears to fall.  
I know there are others who see the empty chair, if only their loved one could still fill it.
I know there are others who long for that special Christmas meal that only their loved one could make *just right*.
I know there are others who see the perfect gift... if only they could wrap it to see their loved one smile upon receiving it. 

I know there are others who see the bright and twinkling Christmas lights, and have those bittersweet memories of seeing the twinkling all those years ago when she was still here.  And then the tears may flow.

I know there are others who have deep sorrow every single holiday season.

 

I fill our Christmas season with so many things to do together....so many readings, so many crafts, so many wonderful activities and treats... things to get us through the darkness of Advent.
***Because on December 4th, all the way through the 14th, my world forever changed.  Out of nowhere. And it will always be different because of the absence my Momma left behind.***

 

Sweet you, I know you are there.  You are there, and you feel and live with some of the very same things I feel and live with.  You are not alone.

Everyday, your grief is sacred.

Every Christmas...your grief is sacred.

*Love has no end, nor the grief that holds its hand.*

 

May the darkness of Advent remind us of the darkness of grief.  May we offer the light of comfort to those who need it.  May we truly join in the story of hope and Christmas by being present with those in pain.