I Miss You In December
I miss you when I hang ornaments on the tree, especially the ornament with your name on it. I miss you when I hear Christmas music playing softly on the radio. And I really miss singing “Feliz Navidad” in the car with you, at the top of our lungs.
I miss you in January and in February. I miss you in April, May, and June. I miss you in September. But right now, above all, I miss you in December.
We used to run down the stairs on Christmas morning to drink hot tea with milk and eat your homemade healthy cinnamon rolls together in the living room. Then we would sit around the Christmas tree and take turns giving each other our gifts, one at a time, slowly and intentionally, not in any rush. The mornings would be filled with smiles and happiness, and the happiness would be completely sincere. It was the real kind of happiness. Later in the day we would take a long walk in the woods if it wasn’t too cold out, or a walk in the sparkling snow if we were lucky. Christmas night would end with the four of us watching a cozy Christmas movie with the lights out, so the only lights shining were the ones on the Christmas tree.
Christmas was always special to me. Christmas was family time. It was a time of warmth and love and caring for eachother. It was the time of year that made me feel soft inside, as though I was safe and protected. It was as if the harder parts of life were quieted for the season, and everything was gentle and calm.
Christmastime is the time of year we reflect on how thankful we are for all that we have and for how blessed and lucky we are. It’s the time of year when some of the little things don’t matter quite so much, because the bigger things are more important, like how truly grateful we are for one another.
But right now, at this very moment, I’m having trouble feeling thankful. I think it’s because it’s a whole lot harder to feel thankful than it is to feel sad. I want to be able to look back at old pictures of you and me and smile. I want my heart to overflow with gratitude and happiness. But I just miss you so much that the missing you is clouding my view. The missing you is making it really hard to be joyful right now. The missing you is hurting my heart. More than anything, I wish I could buy you a Christmas present this year. I wish so badly for you to be on my list.
Christmas is supposed to be happy and jolly and lovely and full. It’s supposed to be as close to a fairytale as we can get. We become a little more innocent in December, and a little more bright-eyed.
Christmas is still my favorite time of the year. I still love to look at the lights. I still love to wrap gifts and to spend the season with my family and friends. I love every minute of it. But it’s not the same as it used to be because of how much I miss you.
I miss you when I look at the twinkling lights on houses and trees. I miss you when I hang ornaments on the tree, especially the ornament with your name on it. I miss you when I hear Christmas music playing softly on the radio. And I really miss singing “Feliz Navidad” in the car with you, at the top of our lungs.
Sometimes I wonder if the missing you will ever feel a little bit better. But I don’t think it will. I think every December is going to feel a little bit like this. Sparkly and golden, but still not whole. Still not complete. I think Christmas may always be a little less cheery than it once was, a little less joyful.
There’s always going to be someone very, very special missing. There will always be one less smile at the dinner table. One less hand to hold, one song to sing together. I’m never going to get to wrap my arms around you in a big hug on Christmas morning again. And I’m never going to get the chance to drink tea and eat cinnamon buns with you again. I’m never going to get to give you one last kiss on the cheek. And this honestly breaks my heart.
But this Christmas, even though I will be immensely sad, even though I will be missing you, I will try my very hardest to feel thankful for you. Because you deserve this. You deserve to be celebrated, to be loved. This Christmas, I will be thankful that I was lucky enough to have had my life touched by you; by someone so special.
So when I drink my tea on Christmas morning, I hope you know, wherever you are, that I’m drinking my tea with you. When I take my walk, I hope you know that I am thinking of you. And when I blow you a kiss from afar, I hope you know how much I love you every single day.
I miss you in August. I miss you in October. But today, at this very moment, I miss you in December.