Christmas Grief

Luke’s last Christmas was in 2012, he was six years old.  I don't remember a lot about Christmas, except that he got a scooter.  He was super excited about that scooter.  My kids are funny, they don’t wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, and I usually have to wake them up. They would rather sleep!

Last year, we packed up and left town.  I couldn't bear the thought of staying here for Christmas.  There was no tree, there were no cookies, only two gifts for J and K, and a LONG road trip.  We ate Christmas dinner at a Denny’s.  It was a relaxing trip, minus the 14 hour drive and the broken van key.  There was no hustle and bustle of trying to decorate, wrap and bake.  It was easy to forget it was Christmas

I can't do that this year, as much as every fiber of my being wants to go back to Destin, it isn't going to happen. So here we sit, half a bag of pretzels dipped, our Christmas tree up, Luke’s tree in the corner and J’s light tree on the wall.  I have bought each kid 5 gifts, and plan on having our traditional Christmas supper.

However, as it gets closer and closer to Christmas, the more deflated I feel.  The depression is setting in hard, I have gone from wanting to sleep all the time to not being able to sleep at all.  I don't feel like eating.  The only thing I want for Christmas is to hold my baby boy again.

The grief that was getting easier to carry is once again weighing me down.  Luke was such a bright light.

Christmas

Two thousand years ago, God sent his only Son to save a sinful world.  Mary gave birth to a baby boy who would one day save her soul.  God knew on the cold, lonely night that one day, His baby boy would die with the sins of the world on his shoulders. But he still allowed Mary and Joseph to raise that little boy, to love and care for him with all they had.

Eight years ago, I had a baby boy whom I love with all my heart.  I cared for him, kept him safe and healthy.  I kissed his boo-boo’s and brushed his hair, just a Mary did for Jesus.  Mary had Jesus for 33 years, before watching him take his last breath.  I had Luke for 7 years, before cradling him while he took his last breaths.

I firmly believe Jesus met Luke in the water.  He held my baby boy and kept him from being afraid.  I KNOW  Luke is with Jesus now, planning a huge birthday party for the King of Kings.  I am pretty sure Luke is trying to convince Christ to have spaghetti and chocolate cake for his birthday party, maybe even spaghetti taco’s.

Merry Christmas baby boy, give Jesus a birthday hug for me and please don’t try to give him birthday spankings!  I know you can count that high, that’s not the point.

Thanksgiving

I tried posting this last week, but Blogger and I weren't getting along.  So I am trying again.

Thanksgiving.  We made it through our second Thanksgiving without you here begging for the Witch bone.  This year wasn't nearly as hard as last year… the girls at work have been super excited about the holiday, spending time with family and of course the food.  It was easier to get excited about being off work and spending the day at home with J and K and your grandma.  We all ate dinner together, and of course ate way too much turkey.  I have been thinking about how 

Thankful I am for the seven years I got to be your mama.  You were my surprise baby, and you kept me on my toes.

I am thankful for the nights you slept in my bed, snuggling your hard head in my ribs or smacking me in the face.  I miss your bed head in the morning and your squeaky voice saying in a sing song way, “Good morning Mama.” 

I am thankful that you still wrote on the walls, the doors, the furniture and the scarecrow.  I still have all that “artwork” to remind me of you.

I am thankful for the dirty corner wall where you spent your time-outs, the nose and forward prints are your growth chart.

I am thankful for all your footie jammies, especially the ones I had to cut the feet out of so you didn't break your collarbone trying to wear them.

I am thankful for Austin and Mario, I snuggle them every night.

I am thankful for my last conversation with Thelma about your last days. Her theory is you came back that Saturday night, Jesus met you in the water and took you to heaven, but then He sent you back for the next day and a half.  You were here with me, you heard me say, “I love you baby.” You felt me kissing your hands and rubbing your arms and face.  You felt me brushing your hair and kissing your head and nose.  You heard your brother and sister at your bedside telling you they love you and encouraging you to wake up.

I am thankful that all of us know Jesus and have accepted him into our lives.  I am thankful that you are with Him and that one day we will all be together again. (The sooner the better.)

I love you bubberbutt!  I can’t wait until I can kiss your face again.