As Christmas approaches, I have been experiencing such a feeling of sadness. I understand why. This is the Christmas without my precious mom. She went home to be with the Lord in May. But I think there is more. December 18 would be my 49th anniversary if my husband was still living. He has been gone almost eight years, but I guess I’ll never stop having those moments when I miss him. And I think I am still a little tender about my brother’s dying in August 2012. And although my Daddy died in 1998, there are times I still miss him. So goes grieving. It catches us by surprise when those moments come. I guess it shouldn’t, but doesn’t it always?
All that makes me think of my poor little Mama. She and Daddy were married almost 56 years when she lost him. And then to lose a child, no matter how old, was terrible for her. I think it must have been harder than losing Daddy, if that is possible. Children shouldn’t die before their parents, but all through history, they have. My daughter almost lost her 2 year old son three years ago. But we were so thankful that we still have him and he is a normal, active 5 year old, full of mischief and life.
As I have thought a lot about losses this month. I realize that under my sadness, I still have joy. Not the giggly kind that is happiness, but the deep kind that holds onto hope. I think of the message of Christmas and the gift of Christmas: the baby, God in human form, who came to give us hope for each day, strength to go on and to know that the best is not in this life, but in the one to come where we will never have to say goodbye.