Memories on Christmas Eve
Nine years ago I was very pregnant with Miss C, desperately missing Miss Angela and trying my best not to cry during the Christmas Eve service. To be happy for the blessings we did have and the time we had with Miss Angela. But it was hard. It’s still hard nine years later. Tonight as I’m home with one sick (but getting better) and the baby, I find I’m thinking of so many others.
Some that I know are praying hard for family and friends who a struggling health wise. Strangers in groups I belong to on Facebook facing challenges In their lives. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve typed the words “prayers” and sent a prayer on high.
I’m thinking of my friends who have lost loved ones, or are fearing the possible loss. One commented tonight, “I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years.”
It’s not easy. I won’t lie. I wish I could just give everyone a big hug, share a few tears. But since I can’t I’ll pray that they feel the prayers and hugs from afar.
Even when the memories can make you sad, Christmas is still worth celebrating. There is still the wonder of life. Watching a baby’s eyes as she sees the tree light up for the first time. Hearing the girls sing Christmas carols. The tears will come, and that’s okay. Sometimes you have to feel the tears to see the wonder of the stars.
A picture of the Christmas tree this year. Complete with Miss Angela’s ornaments. Tweety Angel, her first ornament, and some of the memory tree angels that were given in honor of her years after she went flying on high.