Christmas Mourning

Christmas had a different feel about it this year. There was still the joy; the joy of knowing we celebrate because of God's first born son, Jesus Christ and the joy of my own first born son, but a fog of sadness seemed to hang over it all as we missed the presence of Levi among the crowd of family. I loved watching Aidan this morning. His excitement over his new bike and train set was contagious. Yet, I noticed there were only 3 stockings hanging, not 4. I realized there seemed to be presents missing. I couldn't help wondering what would Levi have done this morning? Would he have been joyous about his new toys? Would he have tried playing with all of Aidan's new toys? Would Aidan have let him? Would he have laughed and looked on bright eyed as Aidan took his bike out for his first ride around the living room? Would his laughter and smile fill our home as Aidan's did? Would he have cooperated for our family Christmas picture, unlike his brother?

Yesterday, I watched The Muppets Christmas Carol with Aidan. I've seen this movie at least 100 times. I know the story. I know what happens. But I cried when Tiny Tim died. I cried as I watched Kermit and Mrs. Piggy grieve over the death of their son. Because I know. I know what that feels like. It's not a pleasant feeling. It hurts. It leaves you breathless and unsure how to take your next step. It leaves a void in your life and in your heart. A void that you long to fill, but have no idea how to do so.

I had real smiles for Aidan this morning, but at times, I wondered if he could sense the sadness behind them. I hope not. I hope he knows that I love him infinitely. I hope he will grow to know that he can never do anything to take my love away. Levi's death has only made my love for him stronger as I've learned to cherish every single tiny moment with Aidan because of the knowledge of the shortness of life I now possess. I hate that knowledge.

I had a good Christmas. I enjoyed the time spent with my little family and our extended families. You can't help but have a fun Christmas with 3 little 2 year olds running around the house, especially when they are given remote control cars by their uncle and motorized car tracks by their grandparents. Then throw in the marshmallow guns and a bag of marshmallows that Josh, Jonathan, and Brian were given by my grandparents, and it's a house filled with laughter.

But I missed Levi in the quiet moments. I missed him in the moment I opened a tiny stocking with his name on it made by my mother. I missed him in the moment I opened a yellow rose ornament given by Mimzy. I missed him in the moments everyone was watching movies and the boys were still playing. Levi should have been playing right along with them.

This first Christmas was hard, but I suppose all the firsts will be hard.