The first Christmas after Mom was gone was painfully difficult. Dad had just remarried, and I was still in shock – wandering. I was afraid of the ghosts in my basement bedroom, only now I had a new sister just across the hall.
The next year we had moved to a new home and I had my own bedroom and bathroom all to myself – the only bedroom on that floor. Dad consented to let me have my very own Christmas tree and gave me Angie the Angel to place on top – Mom’s angel.
With my bedroom lights turned off, I sat on the floor in front of my Christmas tree listening to Christmas music – and I cried. I could not hold back the tears any longer. Mom was gone – forever. Through my tears, the colored lights on my tree melted into each other, as if crying with me.
But my tears could not bring back my beautiful mom. My mom who was everything Christmas.
Thirty-nine Christmases later, Angie the Angel has been recently replaced by a new Angel to guard over my Christmas. I no longer sit in front of my tree and cry inconsolably. But in quiet moments, I still miss Mom. I miss her radiant smile, her laughter, and her Christmas carols.
And yet, I KNOW she wants me to feel joy. She wants me to laugh and sing and LOVE. And she whispers to my heart of God’s love. She wants me to know that because of our Savior, whose birth we celebrate, all things can be made right. We can be made whole. We can find the light.
And I hear her. For that, I am grateful.
