One More First Without You

Christmas was never your thing, except for the shopping. It was the one time of the year you would voluntarily go out into the stores. Last year you went and leaned on the cart  and rested a lot, and we didn't go far or for long. This year, had you gone, I would have Been pushing you in the wheelchair and you'd have been pushing the cart. Not for you those wheelchairs with baskets that the stores provide. You somehow saw those as an insult or a put down, and if you went, it would have been i n your own chair and under your own steam.

I missed our once a year shopping expedition, under whatever terms you would have dictated.

More than that, I missed talking with you as I wrapped the gifts for the babies. I never realized what a pleasant thing those chats were. Discussing the gifts, the possible reactions, what she would say and what he will do -- oh, those thousand hundred million little things that are everyday living.
Except that you are not living, and so we didn't have that this year.

I'd share pictures with you, but I don't have any yet. They haven't opened their gifts, for one thing. I didn't get to wrap them until Christmas Eve, after we took them home to Tam's and had Christmas dinner with them. Tam trying for a new tradition, I think.

We all missed you so.

But, this first Christmas without you has passed.
We survived.
I don't know that there is anything m,ore to say than that.

We love you.
We missed you.