Since my post on remembrance I am just bursting at the seams wanting to shout from the rooftop "Remember, remember! My sons are gone". While all of you (family) are making your holiday preparations all I can think about is the empty chair and high chair at my table. The unwrapped presents under my tree. The candles in my window. Blinking away tears. Gifts are unimportant, dinner is unnecessary. What is important: buying something small for their graves, making sure their Christmas tree lights are lit up at night, getting to and from the wintry cemetery, honoring their memory through a gift of charity, hearing their names.
So I'm up on the rooftop waiting for Santa to deliver me the one miracle that even Santa doesn't have in his bag.