I have a video from Christmas morning two years ago. As per Hall family tradition I have my kids in their brand new matching pajamas which they opened and slept in the night before. Jerry and I are getting them situated in front of the Christmas tree for a sibling picture before the chaos of present opening. Hawke was 2 months old at the time and not too entirely pleased with the whole process. He was making us well aware of the fact to which I responded with something about how Hawke wasn't happy. And I can still hear Fane's little voice saying ever so sweetly, "I'm happy, Mama."
And he was happy. Almost all of the time, not just on Christmas.
So now on Christmas day two years later, I woke from a short nap following the gluttony that is Christmas lunch at my Grandma Hall's house. The rest of my family is still snoozing. And I see Buddy (whom I still sleep with every night, by the way). And I am reminded of my little boy. My happy little boy. And I miss him terribly. I miss what we had that we will never have again. And I long for what will be when we are reunited in another time and another place. I entertain thoughts of the gifts he would have opened this morning were he still here with us. I grieve for the Christmas (and everyday) mornings that his siblings do not get to share with him. And I despise the gaping hole that exists where he should be. I just miss him.
I imagine that everyday in heaven is Christmas. And through my tears I can hear Fane say, "I'm happy, Mama."
I imagine you are, Fane. I imagine you are...
