Another Christmas here and gone...

It's winding down... another Christmas Day has come and is almost gone.

It doesn't feel like Christmas without Emily. Or at least, not like the Christmases I remember. It's different. Christmas has become a little quieter, a little softer, and yes... even a little bit darker in some ways. Christmas for me now comes in the soft glow of a candle in a darkened church sanctuary, listening to the singing of Silent Night. And the tears flowed again this year. Not the tears from a broken heart like last year. But tears of.... remembering. And longing. And even a little bit of healing.

And as I drove home from the midnight service last night, I took the advice of a friend and looked up at the Christmas Eve sky. She was telling me about her dad, and how sometimes she doesn't get the feeling that he's still with her. But that sometimes when she looks at the sky, she knows that he's still there. (I'm paraphrasing- she said it much more eloquently than I am.)

I get that feeling alot. For awhile there, I saw Emily everywhere I went. I heard her voice, followed her laughter, and caught a whiff of her favorite perfume. I dreamed about her all the time. For awhile I thought I was going crazy. And then it slowly stopped. I don't search for her in every store I go into. The sound of her voice is fading in my memory and it kinda breaks my heart. But the feeling of emptiness is somehow a little harder to handle.

But last night she didn't feel quite as gone. She was in the singing of the carols, in the beauty of the poinsettias, and in the light dancing on the icicles on the tree. And driving home in the early hours of Christmas morning, she was in the stars in the sky, the snow on the ground, and in the chill in the air. It's like that quote from Taylor Caldwell said... I felt less alone last night. And that was where I found beauty in Christmas.

Christmas Day will never be the same. But then again, nothing ever really stays that way. Christmas can't always be found in traditions. Or things. Or even people for that matter. But what doesn't change is the very heart of Christmas. The faith, the belief, the love, the joy, the promise, and the hope... that's Christmas Day.

People keep telling me that with each passing holiday, each year, each milestone it will get easier. Which I don't find to be true at all- at least not for me. I don't think you can measure grief in terms of easier or harder. I think each one is going to be different, in it's own way. Last Christmas was horribly painful. This Christmas season didn't hurt, but it was somewhat lonely, and tinged with alot of melancholy. Just like you can't measure how high up is, you can't measure grief.

You just have to take it as it comes, one day at a time.

But for this day, this Christmas, and in this moment... she doesn't feel quite so far away. And that's enough for me.


Merry Christmas.