A Christmas Wish

This too shall change ... thinking back at this time two years ago ... indeed things do change.  Those days were filled with apprehension, tears and despair.  Two years later, facing our third Christmas without Bill, there is a sense of  ... can't seem to find the right word.  It is a  mixture of definition, loneliness and a sprinkle of hope. 

It came in a moment of realization this past Sunday that Christmas is only a few short weeks away.  Initially, I was moved to start decorating  with only a sense of obligation but feeling a growing warmth in my heart as I worked.

It reminded me of December 1996, the year my Dad joined the angels.  Here was this little blond haired and blue eyed boy asking if Christmas was coming this year.    We spent the next couple of hours decorating the house before Bill came home for lunch.  Christmas was finally in the air and my little guy was beaming with pride and happiness.

It has been a week now, Seth has mentioned on more than one occasion that most everywhere he goes, everyone has their Christmas Tree up and homes are decorated.  I wasn't listening; that is until this moment of realization.  Once again, we got busy.  It was pleasant to spend a few hours with my Seth  decorating our banisters, music playing and a little excitement growing in my heart knowing that Casey  would be coming home to a little magic.  Change ... a bit of excitement.  Did I really feel that? 

I miss Bill so very much, but I miss living even more.

My Christmas wish for all my widowed friends ... and to all who are in pain over the loss of a dear one ...

I wish that we will learn to breathe again,

that we will learn to let go of all the hurt,

and by doing so we will see and feel again.