Christmas is approaching. This is the time of year for celebration and family. It is hard, emotional, confusing... so many things. It should be happy, it will be happy, but it will also be tinged with sadness.
This year should be Patrick's second Christmas. I wonder what he would be like. I imagine what our family photo would look like (if we did one anyway!) with three wee ones dressed up in their Christmas jumpers and Santa hats. It would be a full house. I wish I did not have to use the word 'would' for every sentence.
Every day I want Patrick to be remembered, to be talked about, and to be included. If you talk to any person who has lost a child, they will say that their worst fear is that the child will be forgotten. This I can relate too. Without a physical presence, the name of the child is spoken less. Without shared collective memories, the place of the person in the family becomes more murky. With the passing of time, people assume that the grief, pain, and hurt is gone. Like it can be healed or the current situation can ever be deemed as acceptable.
Last night, Patrick's Granny gave us a tree bauble for him. How I cried. It breaks my heart, but in a good way. I hate that this is all I have, but I love it when someone does something for Patrick, gets something just for him, keeps him going simply by thinking of him and talking about him. It honestly does not happen often enough. Maybe this is why it hits me so much. Anything with Patrick's name on it, with his memory and presence attached to it, is priceless to me. I will cherish the bauble like some heirloom piece of jewellery.
So, now when I look at our Christmas tree I see Patrick front and centre. It is calming in a way to know that he is 'on' the tree being a part of our Christmas season and knowing all of our Christmas wishes. Who knows what this Christmas will bring.