Wednesday, November 4, 2009
I seem to be breathing a little easier tonight. Our Halloween ornaments are lit in their last hoorah before they come down for another year. The tint of the orange lights and the smell of harvest candles seem to be soothing us.
As I gladly put our first Halloween without Grey behind us, I am pleased to find that I am excited for the Christmas season to approach. As I rushed to take the Christmas ornaments down last year, only seeing Grey in them, I feel rushed this year to put them up for the exact same reason. I'm ready to sit on our couch in the hues of the blinking lights and remember our time together.
I find myself looking for singing hippos, caramel apple cider, and new ornaments to adorn our tree in his memory. We'll hang his stocking, stuffed with his Oatmeal (his favorite stuffed animal not the cereal), and make him as big a part of our Christmas as we can.
I guess I just find it surprising, although I miss him terribly, that I would be OK with enjoying Christmas because, especially in his last days, he enjoyed it so much. When we first brought him home to a Christmas filled house, he spent hours staring at the tree, laying in his bassinet or swinging in his swing. A year later, we would spend hours swaying him in front of that same tree to soothe him. Ry had picked out this goofy Hallmark ornament for him, Santa trying to stuff a hippo down the chimney. You'd push it's button and it would sing the 50's Christmas tune "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas". Grey LOVED that ornament! When we first got it for him in November, he would demand that the song play over and over with an excited screech. During his last few days his loud demands were replaced by a subtle stroke of his fingers on my shoulder. Even then, his spirit was amazing!
And once again, I'm reminded how lucky I am to have been his mom. To think that maybe a little bit of that spirit came from me, from the love that I gave him, is, for this moment, enough. He was a happy baby. He was a strong baby. It was like he took every breathe knowing they were numbered, yet he smiled anyways.
I can do that. I can do that, because he did.