Flowers that bloom on Christmas

Yesterday was Christmas Day. Our third Christmas without you. And also the first Christmas I noticed flowers that continue to bloom in your garden. It’s incredible that we’ve made it past the shortest day of the year- the middle of winter- and your garden still blooms. It’s like a sweet Christmas message that the flowers remaining are white and red… holiday colors.

This Christmas with your brother being just over one year old has been so magical and so healing. We spent Christmas the way we longed to spend Christmas for so many years and I poured my soul into all the details for him. It felt nice to create traditions and make the holiday magical. I genuinely enjoyed this Christmas and loved the pure excitement on his little face. In many ways this Christmas redeemed a part of my soul that had been lost to sadness a few years ago. But if I’m completely honest the “merry”, “joy”, “happy” of this season is and will always be a little different since we lost your Papa, then you, and then Kilroy.

Throughout December I thought of you. What would it be like if you were here? If you were here surely your brother wouldn’t be… and that is a difficult concept for me to sit with for too long. I’m still navigating this whole parenting thing with you out there wherever you are and your Brother here with us. It’s an interesting thing living with both grief and joy, feeling content and yet longing at the same time… Before you I didn’t understand how complex human emotions and experiences could be. I didn’t understand how loss could impact someone’s experiences for the rest of their life. For years and years- even when things are going well. And now I’m navigating it all day by day. It’s easier, for sure, than it once was but I won’t ever return to that blissful, ignorant way of living that I once knew.

Ordering our holiday cards I couldn’t help but quickly pass by the overly joyful, cheery, and innocently gleeful card options. I know all too well that this time of year can be beyond difficult for so many. And in all honesty I’m a bit cynical. I worry that if I send out a message that is too jolly or blissful the universe will seek to correct me and another shoe will drop. So I scrolled through options and took quite some time to make a decision. A simple Happy Holidays in a classic color would have to do- even though in many ways I feel as though my heart could sing this holiday season with all the colors and messages of pure happiness.

I struggle sometimes with truly and completely experiencing joy after the deep devastating sadness of losing you. It’s not uncommon for guilt to creep in after I’ve had too much fun or felt too much happiness. But this December you made sure to send me messages to let me know it was okay to truly soak up the moments with your brother. When Benjamin and I came down with the flu the message on my tea was often one of flowers. At first I thought it was strange- I’ve never had a message on my tea about flowers. And after your second message I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. You were gently nudging me to listen. And once I listened I felt much more peace with embracing and enjoying this very special Christmas.

Maybe flowers are the stars of the earth, Amelia. Maybe there is some greater meaning here about how the stars I say you were born into are aligned with the flowers that make me feel close to you. What I know for sure, however, is that I’m glad I live in a place where your flowers can grow. And I’m thankful for your flowers that continue to bloom on Christmas Day.