This Christmas marked the second Christmas without my son, and the second New Year without him. Painful it was. I felt like I was going to crumble like a piece of bread underneath the pressure of all the people around me expecting me to put a BIG smile on my face. And so I crumbled underneath the pressure as if a big hand was squashing me. My body just crumbled and I wept. We are now the year 2016. 2 digit years ago – I was not planning to become pregnant with you, and then February came around the corner and I had a big surprise waiting at my door step. I was pregnant with you. I had a thousand emotions sweep over my face but I knew from the instant that I had you that I loved you, and nothing could change that.

My Christmas Poem to you (though it is sad). I sat in the solitude of the bathroom – only place where I can find peace in the house writing it with tears streaming down my face. Here goes:

Christmas Blues

The sadness etched on my face
as the wind gently blows
a breath so soft
whispers silently in my ear:
I love you mama. I love you.
Be strong. For I will wait
for you at heaven’s gate.
A single white feather falls
onto my lap.
My second Christmas in heaven
watching down on the lights
that shine brightly
as the lights in heaven glow.

Beckoning a stillness and a peace
that is not know to man
a peace that partially filters
onto the plains of the Earth
where Jesus once walked.

My mind often drifts and jolts awake when there are the huge family gatherings – mirrored with sadness – knowing too well that you should be here with me rather than having to spend my days without you. In all honesty I thought that Christmas would be easier for me this year then the last but it was harder. Without the distraction of work I had more time to think about the ‘what ifs’? What good does it do to think about the ‘what if’s’ when it only stalls you from moving forward.

Thank you for the snow on New Year’s Day Sebastian. This had put a smile on my face, and I ran outside into the snow and I made a snow angel. Then we took the dogs out for a walk and I imagined if you came with us – you would be all bundled up in your little snow suit, and in my heart I feel like you would have been a free spirit wanting to walk the BIG dogs all by yourself. And I can almost picture your little nose so red from the cold.

I used to say to you I love you till the moon and back and forever and I imagined while I was standing looking out at the window with my swollen womb thinking how we would rub our noses together and I would whisper softly in your ear saying ‘I love you, Sebby, Mommy loves you’. But the good Lord wanted you to go home early. Why – I will never understand. I will not question our Father on the whys. After all does he not know what is best for us?

2 digits further, almost a month to the day that I knew you were conceived and I knew that my life would change forever, I walked out that dark February night and walked into my new life, not knowing what was going to hit me hard in the face. It feels like forever since you were near me, and yet it seems like only yesterday, we were powerfully inter-wined with each other, and nothing could break us apart. I now look back to our time fondly, yes with a tear slipping from my eye, but it is at times with fondness at the warmth that you brought into my life. I imagine there would have been even more warmth in my life if you hadn’t died.

I have to force myself now, my tired sagging body to move forward and to let the past go, while still remaining that balance in remembering you. But how do you do that? How do you move from something so life altering? How do you face the future knowing that the future is but a fragile, and that it can be but very brief? How do we keep going forward if reality keeps hitting us with issues and problems that we have to face on a daily basis? The temptations that we face. The hollowness of our empty existence. We are just myriads reflected in glass. Nothing more than little specs of dust if you really think about it. The loss the heartbreak that is with me every waking moment is sometimes easier to bare then other days. I gingerly walk and learn to move forward however hard it is to think about a future – possibly a future without children. That thought is more scary than dying, dying alone.

Maybe I am just talking gibberish now. That is what happens to you when you have had very little sleep and spend half the night awake worrying about your mother’s ‘green bowl’ and spend the night dreaming about people having a heart attack. I guess that life is so fragile that it can pop and end one day without knowing. It can happen in seconds. It can happen in small moments. Death can occur to anyone. How I wish I knew what was waiting around the corner for me.

I guess I need to move forward and make some changes in my life. Anyone have any suggestions?