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There’s something about this time of year that makes me yell “NO!” internally. Sometimes as I’m falling asleep I yell it out loud. And it always comes with seeing you on that cement floor.
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Why am I feeling this so strongly now? I don’t think it’s Christmas. I think it’s what Christmas time is supposed to bring. Cozy homes and hugs and delighted gift opening. Homemade cookies and hot chocolate by a fire.
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Maybe all of this was triggered by pulling out four stockings this year, knowing yours would stay empty.
Should I ask your siblings to write down a memory of you to put in your stocking so there’s something to open and read on Christmas? As much as you are gone, I still want you to be remembered.
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We are in a new house, one you never saw, so there’s no painful memories of you here.
We are not going to Grandma’s house this year so there’s no extended family that’s going to forget mentioning your name or skim over the place you used to hold.
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But even so, Christmas is a reminder of how much you used to love it. How YOU were the one who pulled out the tree and assembled its prickly branches. You were the one who got out the Christmas village and staged it all. YOU were the one who donned the Santa hat while you busied yourself transforming our living room, long past the interest of your siblings. They thought mom would do it all. Did they even know you did most of it?
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I need hot tea and homemade quilts but I’m getting shattered ice and stinging winds. Most of the time the world is just busy and I feel they’ve forgotten what pain can be held by losing a child. But Christmas highlights the fact that my soundtrack is, “NO!” while the rest of the world is singing “Merry Christmas!” Maybe it’s the contrast of this season that stirs up the pain.
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I think I will ask your siblings to slip a memory of you in your stocking. As much as I don’t want you to be gone. You are. We’ll bring some Tristan back by remembering the you, you used to be.
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Dear God, thank you that Tristan is more alive than ever. It won’t be long until we see him the way he was always meant to be. Christmas will pale in comparison to all you have in store for us on the New Earth. New Tristan, new world, new adventures and surprises for us all. Together! Forever! Tell Tristan for me that his Christmas village stayed in the boxes, but we brought out his stocking. Would you please let him listen Christmas morning as we read the slips of paper we put inside? It’s because of Christmas that we are alive at all! Thank you for becoming a baby and experiencing a painful life and death on this cursed earth because you loved us. You beat death and you rescued Tristan from death, too. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
