As we pull out the boxes from the basement, the ones filled with holiday decor, I’m joyful for the beauty it will bring to the house, but also I find myself with tears feeling the unwanted sting of grief. Wholeheartedly I stand here wishing for just one more Christmas with you.
We take out the tree and begin decorating it with all of our favorite ornaments, always saving the best ones for last– the ones with your face and your name. I’m in awe of your beauty, just as I always have been. Tears stream down my cheeks as I desperately wish you wouldn’t have to be a face on our tree because you’re still a soul standing beside us. And just like every year, I long for one more Christmas with you.
We hang the garland and the wreaths. We turn on our favorite holiday movie. We cuddle together under the blankets. And the whole time I’m feeling so grateful for the husband and kids that sit beside me, it also feels like something is missing, because it is. You’re missing, and that’s a hard reality to carry. And even with a full lap and immeasurable blessings, I find myself aching for just one more Christmas with you.
One more Christmas with you, or holiday– just one more anything really. I didn’t know the last was the last until it had already slipped past us. I want a redo. I want a chance to soak it all up with focused intention and purpose. I want to take dozens of photos and videos to have when this is all over and there are no more opportunities again. I want to sit with you, bake with you, chat with you, dance with you, and simply appreciate being able to be in your presence.
I want to internalize the way you make everything so magical and each one of us feel so loved. I want to memorize the way you sing your favorite carol at mass and the way you create each of your famous recipes. I want to pay attention to all the little details and each thing you did when we were either fast asleep or busy with all of the celebration.
I long for one more Christmas with you. A chance to recreate my most beloved memories and most cherished moments. A chance to slow down the hurry of the holidays and receive the greatest gifts I’ve ever been gifted– unforgettable, priceless and happy experiences with you.
Just one more Christmas.
Just one more holiday.
Just one more day.
Just one more.
And I’m devastated because I know it’s not possible. And I smile because I’m lucky to have had something so beautiful I still wish and long for it years later. And I know with each new year and each new holiday season, I’ll always wish for one more Christmas.
One more Christmas with you.
