As Long as There's a Christmas
The first few lights glow brightly,
as you watch the season start.
You know you should be happy,
but don't feel it in your heart.

Instead you think about a time
when someone laughed with you,
and the love you shared then filled your soul.
But too soon it was through.

So Christmas comes with sadness,
and a yearning deep inside,
a thirst for love and peace and hope
that will not be denied.

Late one night you hear a voice,
so soft, and without blame,
and then, surprised, you realize,
He's calling you by name.

"I know your hurt and loneliness,
the heartache that you bear.
I listen and I cry with you
through every single prayer.

"I promised in the manger
and fulfilled it from the cross.
I built a home that's filled with love
for all those who are lost.

"So let me come and heal your heart
and give you rest within.
For my way is kind and gentle
and will bring you joy again."

His words still echo through the years,
a vow that He made true,
"As long as there's a Christmas,
I will be in love with you."
--Jack Zavada

Christmas was once a busy time of preparation and celebration for us, it brought joy to our home in the form of shiny wrapped packages, twinkling lights and laughter. This year our house is draped in sadness. I refused to put up a tree because the thought of facing it everyday, a constant reminder in my home, seems cruel. We wont have lights or presents or stockings. Maybe Christmas won’t always be non-existent here perhaps we will once again find some joy in this time of year but not now, for now there is something missing, our joy and someone missing, our son.

In the last six months it seems as though my old companion time has now become my arch nemesis. On the hard days time crawls by me like a sick rabid animal trying to find his final resting place. On the mild days it is fleeting like a humming bird buzzing by in search of precious nectar. Time no longer does what I will it to do almost as if to spite me. On the days that I feel like I am in anticipation the seconds click in my head like footsteps on a mausoleum floor. I am not sure why anticipation has this affect on the clock or exactly what I am anticipating but the mix of time and anticipation is a toxic bitter cocktail that is impossible to swallow. My aticipation grows with the approaching holiday and my questions reverberate so loudly…How will I cope? Where can I escape? and as the anticipation and the questions mount time cowards in the corner making its presence known only by its lack of cooperation.

Sometimes when I am somewhere familiar I find my mind playing games with me. I am not sure if they are games of protection, comfort, or just my mind doing what it is used to. When I am at home I expect to see J.T. coming down the stairs…when I set the table I still set his place. Today I was at his elementary school and I watched the fourth grade pour out of their classes into the cafeteria. I didn’t watch with sadness or remorse but with anticipation. The anticipation that any moment he would emerge into the crowd of round happy faces. When he doesn’t appear I have almost a moment of panic, then I remember…he won’t be there. Change is so difficult to accept on a small scale, so I can only imagine losing a piece of yourself would take a bit longer. I don’t know if I will move into a place of acceptance or if these expectations will remain with me for eternity.

I find that grief has now pushed me into the dank bowels of a dark cave. I am alone, cold and afraid. The familiar to me now seems strange and the once comforting details of my life seem insignificant. I know longer waste the days dreaming of the future because it has become overwhelming. The past is a safe place to dwell now; here I can remember his words, his eyes, his touch. My heart constantly aches to be with him and refuses to let me move forward for fear of forgetting. It has become so full to capacity with memories and regrets that it has lost the ability to let love move in or out and it just remains a locked tomb of precious preservation. My body somehow still manages to move me through the days but my heart refuses staying behind feeding my mind tempting visions of what was. I feel like I must decide weather to move forward with my body, or stay behind and watch the dust settle on my heart.