The tree is not up, there are no decorations. The stockings are not hung on the mantle. I’ll tell you it’s because of Winnie - that she will take each ornament off the tree, one by one and destroy it. I’ll tell you that she’ll probably climb the tree if she can’t reach the one she wants. I’ll tell you it’s because we are never home, between Payton’s two swim teams and Pete’s hockey schedule. I’ll tell you because I can’t get all the decorations down from the attic myself. I’ll tell you anything.
The obvious reason is because he is not here. He didn’t write out his Christmas list. What would he of asked for this year? I didn’t shop for him. I didn’t wrap any of his presents. He will not be here to wake up on Christmas morning with his sister with that beaming smile he always wore. We won’t spend the day with him, building legos or playing the latest NHL on Xbox. We won’t watch a Christmas Story or Home Alone with him. It’s everything that will no longer be. This was our last Christmas card.
For all who are grieving during the holidays, it’s ok to not be ok. It’s ok to not decorate or listen to Christmas music. It’s ok to pass on the ugly sweater party. It’s ok to decline invitations to work parties or to not bake cookies. It’s ok to not be ok.
I love you forever, Bud
