Holidays and Missing You

December 26, 2009

You called on Christmas morning. You were hard to hear and your voice sounded so strained and scratchy. For the first time I had some concrete idea of how you are doing. You sound tired ~ no exhausted is a better description. You said your throat really hurt from all the shout outs you have to do. It is okay to send you power bars and cough drops. Just the idea of being able to send you something makes me feel so elated. And then you were gone again. And the girls and I cried from joy and being able to hear you. I immediately called your grandparents and shared the call with them.

Christmas felt very different for me. The whole crazy clan together at Uncle Jims and Aunt Carolyn's. The usual jokes, too much food and fun gift exchanges. I just wanted to go home. We took some family group shots to send to you. All your aunts, uncles and grandparents in one, and then all your cousins in another. When you see the pics it makes you realize how truly blessed we are for this tight knit family. There we were, all 25 of us. And it has always been 26. A toast was made to you at dinner and I had a hard time swallowing my sip of wine and smiling. Talk of college, ski and snowboarding adventures to come, what everyone was doing on vacation, etc. dominated the table conversation. I tried to listen, but I was instead wondering what you were having for Christmas dinner. Did you have firewatch? Did you glance at the stars in South Carolina and think of us back at home?

I wish I had known that last Christmas was going to be the last we would probably share with you for a while. I don't know what I would have done, but I just wish I had known.