Its cold inside.

Its Christmas eve.  Well it 4:33 in the morning and when everyone wakes up it will be Christmas eve day.  I can't sleep.  Noah was up all night, he is sick with the flu, we have all had it.   Elliott brought it home from pre-school.   I am recovering from it but still have that cough that is ugly and lingers forever.

The house is quiet, cold...and I am in your room your little brother sleeping soundly next me, and I am missing you like crazy.

There are days when I forget.  I don't forget you I just forget the hurt, I live here in the moment where the dishes are piled up and the laundry needs folding, a lunch needs to be packed, someone needs a ride, the turkey bacon is burning under the broiler...and I forget to be sad, I forget that I am doing this life thing without you.  Maybe I am not forgetting as much as just living.

Then there are days when it still hurts to breath.

Sometimes memories kind of linger around me, pull at me, ask me to pay attention to them, I  know if I follow them there will be tears...but I must because that's what I have and some part of me thinks its you saying "Hey mom I am still  here, remember this...remember when..."  And I do baby, I remember all of it.

Yesterday I was remembering the shower and it brought me to my knees.  That shower is gone now, replaced by a new one but I wrote to you in the steam anyway.  You loved water, it gave you such comfort.  This is something you and I share, water calms us, it neutralizes everything, it is home.

You know I hate Christmas.  Not my favorite holiday but you kids loved it so much so I tried to make it magical, when we had plenty and when we had little.  You my little elf loved it most.  You made it so much fun.

The last Christmas we had with you hurt like hell, it was pitiful, we slept in the hospital, on the floor, on chairs, in the waiting room.  We pretended...it hurt, I knew it was our last.

I try to make it special for the boys and your sister who is 31 still gets excited for Christmas morning, she loves her stocking and a pile of presents, it squeezes my heart.

I don't put your stocking up...its strange it feels wrong.

It will be a good Christmas, Elliott finally understands it and he is so excited.  He is sure Santa is coming even though he has spent a fair amount of time in the naughty chair this year.  Your Dad showed him the three stooges and they like to watch videos where people bump into walls, slip on ice, the christmas tree falls on gramps or someone falls into the birthday cake...so you can guess what kind of trouble he gets into.  He is a sweet boy but he is a handful.

The tree is red this year.  I let Elliott choose.  The ribbon is red and white polka dots, we pulled out all the red balls, the white snowball ornaments, and any of the christmas past ornaments that were red.  Elliott got a furry puppy, kitty. and duck ornament to put on the tree, he keeps taking them off and putting them back on.  He loves it.  He has scattered fake snow all over the house, smashed all the tangerines, licked all the chocolates, pulled all the pompoms off the stockings, and made tiny pesky holes in all his presents.

The tree is new, we got it last year, a cheap fake tree with white lights, nice and narrow so it fits in our tiny living room.  I didn't feel like a tree topper this year, your angel is still wrapped in tissue in the box.  I couldn't pull it out, I just couldn't.

Tonight Aly will come over after work, we will make stuffed chicken breasts, scallop potatoes, roasted broccoli and bake a loaf of bread.  TT and Anthony will come over and we will exchange presents.  Early Christmas morning we will wake up and open presents.  It will be nice.

I need to sleep, if I don't I will be crabby and ruin it all.

Stevie I feel like I am failing at everything.  Your dad and I are a mess, we are two people living in the same house...I am my worst person on most days.  My parenting is me just being here but not really being here.  Some part of me is tired.  I am holding on to hope, because that is what I do, I write stories in my journal about how things are going to be better, how magic is going to happen, how there can still be a happy ending...

I need change...good change.

I am going into the studio to make art for me.  I am ready to get back to it.  Elliott will be in preschool until summer then will start Pre-k that means I will have four hours in the studio five days a week.  I am looking forward to creating again, really going for it.  Maybe that is the change I need.

Sarah is sick.  I am guessing if there is a heaven, and you are watching us from time to time then you know.  She has Cancer.  I want to wrap her tiny bird self up in my arms and protect her but I know I can't, and honestly that woman is made out of much stronger stuff than me I think.  She is brave.  She sent me an angel for Christmas, a girl with wings, butterfly in her hands...she is sick but sending me love and angels.  I don't know how it works were you are but could you stay close to her, could you help her find the doctors and treatment she needs, keep her strong, don't let her be afraid.  I am sure Annie is close by and he dad but she needs all the angels.  You know Sarah she likes to go big!  She loved us so well when you were sick, when we needed her.

I wish you were here.  I wish we had gone shopping and baked cookies.  I wish we bought odd ornaments for the tree and you would be opening presents tomorrow with your sister and brothers.  I wish...I wish...I wish...

I have to believe you are somewhere, and everyday feels like Christmas.  The sky is warm and pink, the ocean is turquoise and there are dolphins you get to swim with.  There are meadows with yellow tulips and red poppies, unicorns for fun.  You walk barefoot on soft grass, fall asleep under giant redwood trees.  You are surrounded by all the things you love and there is music, the most beautiful music.  Maybe there is a big crystal ball where you live and once in a while you peek in at us and laugh and wonder and wait...

I am here baby where I have always been, I can't give you a Christmas present, I can't wake you up and tell you Santa is here, I can't make you hot chocolate and cookies, I can just lay here in your room and love you where ever you are and hope you feel it and know it.

I miss you so much, so very much.

I love you Stevie.

Merry Christmas.