I use to love the holiday season, the bright lights, tinsel, crispness in the air and the ever playing Christmas Carols. Decorating was an event. A time to be treasured and savored. A time I looked forward to all year long. A tree in every room, even the laundry room and pantry. Such fun, such memories. Memories that I don't look back fondly on. Memories that are too painful to bring to mind. And today I go through the motions of decorating. Decorating for Christmas. But what once brought joy now is dealt with on a has to basis. The first year after Jacob died I made our entire family go on a cruise. We left Christmas Eve morning and stayed gone for a week. No decorating, no wrapping, no Santa to deal with. The second year we crashed Zachary's brand new girlfriend's family Christmas in Florida. Yes, they had only been dating a short time and I invited us all to Tampa. Again, we left Christmas Eve and landed in sunny Florida with no Christmas tinsel near. The sunny beaches with sand Santas made it feel less like a holiday and more like an escape. The third year the boys said NO. No more running, no more ignoring, no more acting like Christmas doesn't exist. We are staying home and we are decorating and exchanging presents. So up went a tree. One lonely tree with haphazardly placed ornaments that matched no Christmas theme. Just a tree with presents. No joy, just existence. Going through the motions. Now year 10 have gone by without you Jacob. Isn't any easier. Yes, I put up more trees and I see a theme running through the house. But it goes up without though, because thought would be too painful. Thought would bring up past memories of happier times. Of a house filled with kids and laughter. Of a house filled with anticipation for Santa. So this year, yes, the house is decorated and presents are being ordered. No department stores with piped in Christmas music and small children waiting in line for Santa. No. Just online shopping with wrapping done to mystery movies rather than Hallmark. I will go along with the plans and keep a smile on my face. But friends, know behind that smile is a breaking heart, for the one who isn't here. For the one whose stocking is left in the box, for the one who no presents are wrapped, for the one who doesn't get to celebrate with us again this year. My son, we celebrate because it is Jesus' birthday and for that reason alone I still breathe. But my son, it will never be the same without you. We put up the tree, wrap the presents, sing Christmas Carols, and eat holiday meals but a part of me is missing too. The part that died when you died. So forgive me friend, if I stand alone for a while, or tire from holiday parties. Know that I am present, still believe and love you dearly but a part of me is missing and I could use an extra hug just to know you still remember and maybe just maybe a little part of you is missing too. Thinking of you my sweet momma friends as the holiday season approaches.

To go someplace far far away where no one knows my name.

I am struggling today. Really struggling. That is a hard thing for me to admit. I try so hard to present a “have it all together woman.” But I don’t. This past two weeks I have forgotten so many things. I missed appointments, forgot to go to the hospital to pray over someone, phone calls weren’t returned, bills left laying on the table and my house has lacked in the area of cleaning. I even left the house for dinner with family and realized I had forgotten to put on makeup. Forgot to put on makeup!! I have never done that. I have tried making excuses for my forgetfulness, thoughtlessness, my apathy, my sometimes down right rudeness on my busyness. I have been short with people, cried for no reason, and felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. At times the anxiety has been crippling to the point of not being able to get up off the couch. My busyness. Started a new job, City Council, church responsibilities, mom, wife, Jacob’s Cupboard, homeless ministry, and redoing a rent house. But that is all an excuse. Today, I looked at the calendar. September 4. September that month that brings so much emotion. I think back to that first September after Jacob died. That first month that I had to realize for the first time in 23 years I wouldn’t be planning a birthday party. I wouldn’t be planning a birthday morning scavenger hunt for your present. September. That month that was once filled with joy not brought dread. And it still does. I want so desperately to escape. To go someplace far far away where no one knows my name. Where no one knows my pain. Where for a moment I can pretend my life is complete once again. Where sadness does not exist. Where when the month of September comes I can be happy and hopeful. But instead I sit here. With meetings, work, phone calls needing to be returned and a family that needs me to be a mom and wife. But linger here for a moment longer where tears flow and I miss you. Longing for you to walk through that door, pick me up in a bear hug and tell me how much you love me. Just to hear your voice one more time. To look into those beautiful blue eyes and be able to see through to your soul. Just one more time. I miss you. I want to go someplace far far away where no one knows my name. But I don’t because life calls. So I continue to plan your Birthday Celebration, number 10 without you. I worry no one will come, no one will remember, that no one will care. I worry that you will be forgotten. Your life will hold no meaning. But son, know that you lived so much in your 23 years and touched so many lives. And that in your death more lives are being touched. But for today, right now, I struggle. I miss you so much. I just want to go someplace far far away where no one knows my name.