Thursday, December 26, 2013

A Stocking Filled With Flowers

It was the last thing I did before I went to sleep Christmas eve. I stopped by your stocking, hung with care in between your big brother's stocking and your little brother's stocking. Theirs filled with toys and treats, yours filled with flowers. Two dozen fluffy pink roses in a big mason jar filling the white sailcloth stocking decorated with a silver star. They were beautiful. They brought you right into our holiday, front and center, there on the mantle, our baby girl, now gone 16 1/2 months. I touched the roses, then went to bed.

Christmas came yesterday and we opened presents and celebrated with family. You were on all of our minds. Your big brother sat down to dinner across from my cousin who is 8 months pregnant and explained that his mommy had a baby die in her belly, and now we have a stocking filled with flowers for her hanging from our mantle. All true, but so sad.

It was an almost perfect day. The sun was shining and the sky was clear and blue. The food was great and the presents thoughtful. All of our relatives were in good health and great spirits. It was the best Christmas you could have with a stocking full of flowers hanging on your mantle. And I think that may be all we can hope for each year. You will always be missing. Any perfect moment will be less than perfect, will be less whole for the fact that you are not there to share it with us.