Christmas in heaven

I made a late night Target run for diapers. I enjoyed my alone time in the car and when I entered the store, I immediately noticed the Christmas section to my right. Without hesitation I turned and walked directly toward it and was practically giddy over the thought of browsing the décor without fear of one of my twin boys breaking something fragile. 

I happily walked up and down the isles, taking my time and stopping to admire the flocked trees and Christmas lights. I was about to skip over the ornament isle until I noticed a cluster of pink ornaments, which instantly made me think of Preslee. Realizing we were about to make a trip up to Idaho for the Holidays, I began searching for an ornament to take to the cemetery.

Multiple ornaments caught my eye and as I was admiring birds and a pink little reindeer, I noticed a pink hot air balloon with Santa standing in the basket.

I instantly knew that was the ornament I wanted. It symbolized Santa taking Christmas to heaven for me and without warning, I was fighting back tears. I quickly turned away from the male employee standing next to me and concentrated on getting my emotions under control.

(Preslee’s 1st Birthday. I was wondering why it was so dark, and then I remembered the power went out while we were eating cake :)

I stood there longer than I would have liked, but as I stared down at the little pink ornament in my hands, my thoughts turned to missing Preslee for the Holidays. It was then I realized that her Birthday was less than a month away, and in that very moment I couldn’t remember how old she would be turning, “Was it eight? No nine? I’m pretty sure nine.” I had to do the math, and I realized it was the first time I had forgotten her age. Reality sunk in. Preselee had been gone long enough that I couldn’t remember how old she would be. It was devastating and I felt awful for forgetting. It made me feel like I had failed as her mother.

It had been such a long time since I’d had such an intense experience with grief, but just like after an earthquake strikes, so do the aftershocks – and you never really know when those will come. I took a couple of deep breaths and realized the longer I stood there, the tears weren’t going to stop. So I quickly turned around, kept my head down, and with the ornament in hand, walked to the other side of the store to find diapers leaving the sound of Christmas music behind me.

Every year it seems like grief teaches me another lesson. Year seven taught me that even though I don’t experience as grief as often as I used to, when those moments hit now, they can be as intense as they were in the early days. I’ve learned to let it run it’s course, because if I fight it, the damage is usually worse in the end.

I’ve come to realize that even though I might have forgotten her age during that painful moment, what I haven’t forgotten is how much I love her or how grateful I am to be her momma. I still think about her every single day and will never stop missing her.

Happy 9th Birthday, Monkey. We’re celebrating big with cake and will be donating bags to Primary Children’s Hospital in your name later this week. This has been by far the best Birthday week we’ve experienced in the past seven years due to all the donations and sweet notes arriving in the packages each day. We love and miss you more than words can say, and I desperately hope someone gave you a hug for me.

Love,

Momma