This is the fourth Christmas we have celebrated with our angel in Heaven. It will be the third we are celebrating with our angel on Earth.
It is the very first Christmas where we have a child who is cognizant of Santa, terribly excited for him to visit, planning what kind and where the cookies will be placed, and wondering if the reindeer would rather have cookies than carrots.
I told myself over a month ago that I would not get stressed this holiday season. I also told myself that our ‘giving’ spirit would surpass our need for ‘getting’ and we would teach the valuable lesson of charity and philanthropy to our five-year-old. Dozens of Amazon orders later, I have piles of gifts to wrap and have gone totally overboard.
We visited Santa at the mall. My little guy climbed up on his lap and smiled huge for the camera. We’re locking bedroom doors and stashing gifts in hard to reach places. We talk on the way to school about how Santa gets in the house when we have no chimney. Every commercial we see for toy cars or trucks, we talk about if we should add that to our list for Santa. I can feel his excitement, and I reminisce the Christmases I had as a child.
The only photo I have of my angel in Heaven with Santa, he was crying because I walked away so I wouldn’t be in the photo. His O2 tank is cautiously hidden behind the throne, and Santa looks just as terrified as my son.
But the three Christmases we had with him, whether in the hospital, or safe at home, are memories I will treasure for eternity. He never understood Santa, or stockings, or gifts under the tree. But we still hang his stocking, put up the photo of him crying on Santa’s lap, and remember that we are lucky enough to have an angel during the most wonderful time of the year.