CHRISTmas

In recent years, Christmas has became just another chore to me. Trimming the tree, putting up and taking down the decorations, cooking, shopping, eating too much and spending too much; these things became just another long to-do list on top of the long list I already had. I dreaded it all, complained the whole month long, breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over. Last year everything changed.

Last December we lost our Lydia, and the world stood still.

All the busyness and hurry and stress of the season just fell away. We knew: Christmas would never be the same again.

This Christmas, I gave myself a gift: the permission to redefine Christmas in my life; to make it what it was meant to be. I had lost the joy, the quietness, the meditative spirit of the season. I had lost the Christ in Christmas. Lydia now lives with Jesus; what better time to remember in my heart why we celebrate.

For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Blessed and happy

Lydia, yesterday I visited your grave, and for the first time when doing so, I smiled and did not cry. It was a beautiful fall day. Fall has such sad memories for me: my mother dying, your sickness last year, and yet it is my favorite time of year. I left after Sunday School yesterday to walk to the cemetery and place flowers by your beautiful "Canadian Rose" tombstone. I tidied up around your area and around your grandparents graves, then I just sat with you a while. It was quiet and peaceful and my love for you flowed warmly and happily through me. How dear you are to me. I thank God for you, and though you were not here on earth long enough to suit me, I am honored and blessed and happy for the time that you were here. You were good for me. You changed me. Before leaving your grave, I took the small metal gravestone marker placed there the day you were buried, and I took it home and put it at the foot of your magnolia tree. And I did not cry.

Happy birthday

Happy birthday, sweet darling. My first thoughts upon waking this morning were of you as a newborn baby, beautiful and perfect in my arms all those years ago in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

Independence Day

Sweet Lydia, Dad is cooking out today. On days like this, your absence is especially painful for us. Not having our girl here with us is unbearable everyday, though; except for the consolation of the Lord and our friends and loved ones, we would be crushed by the loneliness and sadness. We love you. We speak your name often. We cry over our loss daily. We grieve that you had to endure so much suffering and loss in your short life.
Sure wish you could be here today to have one of dad's grilled hamburgers (or hockey pucks as you always called them!) . We miss your laughter.

Four years

It was four years ago yesterday that we first found out Lydia had a brain tumor and that it was malignant. That was the day our grieving began; it was a sorrow that was so raw and unbearable. I remember looking at myself in the mirror in the restroom in ICU and feeling terribly sad for that woman that I saw there. Her heart was so broken for the beautiful daughter who was so very ill. I did not want that woman to be me.

Tomorrow is Charlie's birthday.