And so, after 7 months, I finally went back. Elizabeth and Richard were there, too. Still, the hole–the wound–is still so far inside me I shy away when people trod near it. It’s still so personal, so internal.
It should be his first Christmas. I should have another Baby’s First Christmas ornament on the tree. That’s hard sometimes. But, he’s in Heaven with the Angels and the Saints celebrating Jesus’ Birthday, where music bursts forth and happiness abounds. I want nothing more for my son, especially on his First Christmas.