Another Christmas behind me. 4th one. It wasn’t as hard this year. I’m grateful I am able to carry on so to speak. I make plans, think ahead. I lived minute to minute for a very long time after Drey died. So being capable of planning and following through is another outward sign of God strengthening me.

But as the day is nearly over and I’m alone with my thoughts it once again hits me that I didn’t see Drey for yet another Christmas. He wasn’t here. He’ll never be here.  I remember the first Christmas and driving home from my parents saying, “The day is almost over and I haven’t seen Drey.” Three years later I still have that feeling at the end of Christmas Day. “Wait, this can’t be right. I didn’t see Drey. He’s really dead, isn’t he? He really did this, didn’t he? How am I still alive?”

I don’t even know how I feel about it anymore. The grief waves still roll in but I don’t let myself think about it for too long. I still get knots in my tummy. Maybe I’d feel better if I’d do something in Drey’s memory on Christmas. Light a candle for the day? Set aside time to share memories of him? Give a family in need gifts Christmas morning? I don’t know. I want to talk about him but worry no one wants to listen. I guess I’m still learning how Drey fits into our family now. I’m fearful no one feels a need to find the proper spot for him except for me. And that makes me feel very alone.