Christmas is coming...

Well, Christmas is coming, if I like it or not.  Don't get me wrong, I do like Christmas, but I don't have to love it this year.  We finally put up our tree today.  Anna thought it was fun.  She hung all her ornaments right at the bottom.  She was so happy with herself.  For the most part, I trimmed the tree in white this year.  I needed to feel the pureness, the innocence, the calm that white brings.  I put our wall hanging that says "Peace" on it, about 2/3 of the way up the tree.  I thought it was a neat idea, Jeff thinks is tacky.  But hopefully it reminds me everyday to be peaceful;  to let the season happen, even though I'd would rather go to sleep tonight and wake up to January 1, 2012.

I've been having some anxiety about the holidays.  Why?  well I'm allowed to.  I guess that's part of the process after you've lost someone.  Christmas is tough.  I didn't buy "Baby's First Christmas" Hallmark booties this year.  I bought a remembrance ornament instead...  When Anna and her cousins (from either side of the family) get together to play, and unwrap their gifts how can I help but think of our missing daughter?  When mom and dad come next weekend, along with my siblings and families, there will not be four parcels under the tree from Grandpa and Grandma for the grandchildren.  Cause how do you send gifts to Heaven?  We're having family Christmas at our home, mostly because I need the comfort of my surroundings.  If I need to go hide for a while I will.  And maybe this way we can include Mackenzie and take that quick drive down the highway to the church.

We are spending Christmas Day and some days before/after at my parents place.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to be away from home.  But if we were home, I would feel the pressure to be around all our loved ones and the big hoopla of it all.  Mom and dad's will be quiet.  There won't be a crowd.  If I need a time out, I can go to my room.  My room back home has changed a lot, but it's still comforting. 

Maybe my need to be back home at Christmas comes down to the fact that the hurting little girl in me just needs her mommy and daddy.  Maybe I can pretend that I'm just 10 years old, going to midnight mass, and feeling the magic of the retelling of Christ's birth.  At that age the thought of singing "Away in a Manger", won't make me tear up and my throat raw - we sang that song at Mackenzie's funeral.

But I don't want to be 10 years old again.  I would never give up my wonderful husband and beautiful daughters, not for all the heartache in the world.

I came across a great scripture yesterday, quite accidentally, cause I read the wrong one!  Of course I just spent the last 1/2 hour trying to find it, and no luck.  Anyway it talked about walking through a valley of hardship to eventually get to better things - God's glory.  Funny because my sister in law had just told me that same thing earlier that day!  So here I am, walking...