Dear Zachary,
These past few months have been hectic and emotional. My dear Zachary, Christmas is two days away and our tree is ready, cards are sent, gifts are wrapped, cookies are made and stockings are hung. The holidays just never seem totally right without you here with us. This is your 10th Christmas in heaven, Meatball. I can't believe that I've only had you here with me for one of them. I always think about all of the things that we didn't get to have with you.
I never got to see you open a gift. You were just too little at only 9 months old for our one and only Christmas. I don't get to see you wake up in the morning and rush down the stairs to find our silly little elves hiding all over our house. I don't get to hear you sing holiday songs with your siblings, or watch and quote lines from the movie Elf for the 100th time with your big sister. It's hard not to think about all of the things that have been stolen from us.
I always say that the hardest part of this grief that we all live with is that we can't fix it. No matter how many times I wish for you to be back in my arms, or how many good deeds we do, or how many times I cry your name... you'll forever be gone.
This Christmas is extra difficult because your dad has joined you in heaven this year. I know it's been quite sometime since he and I were friends, but this past year we were doing really well. We even had a few fun times together when he came to visit Kenzy. I guess I can smile knowing that at least you now have your daddy with you. We are just heartbroken that you both can't be here with us again. A few months back when we learned that he was gone, Kenzy turned to me and said, "Mommy, I can't believe we have to do this again." Nobody should have to experience such great loss at a young age. In 2001 your dad and I became a family when we learned we were pregnant with Kenzy. We were scared, but so happy. I had no idea what was ahead of us on our road. If someone would have told me what was to come, I would have never believed it. From a family of 3, to weeks away from being married, to being split, together again, pregnant again, split again, having you, losing you... and many years later losing him. Sometimes life feels like a tragic novel.
I think the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes is to try and stay hyper focused on what's before me; my husband, my daughter, my son and you. Family is what's most important. I try to do my best in honor of you. I have to be the best mom, because my kiddos have to be amazing. They have to have the best life they can possibly have. I have to shield them from as much hurt as I can because I wasn't able to do that for you.
I also need to focus on all of the gifts you have brought into my life. You've connected me with some incredible people who are now very near and dear to me. You've brought me joy in being there for others. Your loss let's me be there to talk to people who may just need someone to connect with how they are feeling. It was even brought to my attention that maybe your loss has also helped me to be there for your sister right now, because I'm very familiar with grief and how she may be feeling. You continue to be a very real and tangible part of our lives and I am so beyond grateful for that.
Just because we celebrate and enjoy the time we have together as a family, doesn't mean my heart's not breaking for you. It's been nearly 10 years, and I'm certain I'll always walk a fine line of happiness and sorrow. I'm okay with that. I know you wouldn't want me to be sad, but I think it's impossible not to. My sorrow is my love for you. It's what keeps you real to me.
Merry Christmas to you in Heaven, little man. I love you more than I can put into words. I am so honored to be your mommy. Sending all of my love to you. Here's a card for you from your brother and sister. Look closely at Liam's. You're having a snowball fight with him from heaven.
Give your daddy a hug and a kiss from us. Tell him we love him more than he realized and we miss him too.
Merry Christmas-xoxo,
Mommy
