There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were.

Dwight D. Eisenhower

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Merry Christmas Mark

Dearest Mark,

It has been too long. Each day without you brings us agony. We find the joy in the life that we have here with each other, but you are never more than a thought away.

We have been so very, very busy this month. Running around from here to there...watching your sisters in their programs and concerts...but nothing that we do feels right without you here with us. The daily reminders of your absence are painful and everywhere. Daddy saw a toy tractor that he would have bought for you this year and as I wrote out tags for your sisters' presents...I saw the indentions from the pen where I had written your tags the last Christmas you were here. "To: Mark, From: Mommy and Daddy". You should be here shaking the presents under the tree...begging me to tell you what is in them. All I see in the stores are things that I know you would have enjoyed.

Being the imperfect person that I am, I miss you in all of these worldly things. Christmas pageants, shopping and baking cookies. It may be that I feel that you should be here for all of this, but I know the truth full well. There would never be anything here on this earth that could make you want to leave the arms of Jesus. Knowing that we will be with you after the toils of this life keeps us gives us hope for our future, but it doesn't take away the sorrow. We can only focus on the reason we celebrate Christmas, remembering to be forever thankful that Jesus was born to save us all.

I haven't been to visit your sweet grave lately even though I know that the flowers must be so faded by now. I thought about bringing some poinsettias to replace the blue ones, but I can't make myself go. It doesn't help. I don't know if it ever will.

I cleaned out the coat closet the other day and I took your coat out and put it in the garage. Leaving it hanging for the last two years has been a strange comfort of some kind, but it seems as time goes on, some things just get harder...I couldn't stand to see it in there anymore without you here to wear it. There was also the jacket that I bought a few sizes to big for you to grow into. Gone...into the boxes of your things.

My mind held better aspirations for this letter to you...I had so many things that I wanted to say, but my thoughts are a mess. After more than two years of missing you every minute of the day, I can't explain nor describe the pain any better than I could in the beginning. The shock of your death and the grief of losing you are as present as they ever have been. It is easier to hide it, but I still wake up every day, longing to see your face and kiss your cheeks...crying most every morning on the way to work...seeing you in almost every little boy...mourning the loss of all of the dreams that we had for you each time I think of you...and not wanting to take a picture of the family because you are missing.

Merry Christmas son...wish I was there.