December is here once again. This time it brings me to the twenty month mark and being in the midst of the second holiday season without Jensen physically here. Time has deceived me. It doesn’t feel like this many months have passed, I even had to count them twice to make sure. The second year of grief with the holidays is impossible to comprehend.

Lately, I’ve been overwhelmed. I have not wrote a lot for others to read or have done a lot of self care. With my Etsy shop, school, and working, I can barley keep myself afloat on top of grieving and missing him each day. There’s a lot more going on too, it just isn’t the right time to share. The words that are bouncing around in my head don’t make sense when I put them on paper or screen. I’ve just been focusing on making it through the present day. There’s been a lot of deep breathing.

In the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about the holidays, of course, and how different they would be with Jensen. I wonder what big present I would’ve got him or if he would have been afraid of Santa. Sometimes I just want to know if he would have snored or what would be his favorite movie. I’m constantly haunted with these unanswered questions and I would do anything to have them answered.

This holiday season is different than last year’s though.

You could say that there’s a ‘lighter’ feeling, but it doesn’t seem like the exact right word I’m looking to use. I guess I’m more open to seeing some of the good that’s going on around me. For instance, I decorated a lot more this year and haven’t had an anxiety attack when I’ve been Christmas shopping. I’m also not dreading the day of, but I’m still not big on the change of the year. Somehow it feels like if I’m just stuck in 2017, that I wouldn’t be even further away from him.

I never thought I could make it here to this day. Almost everyday I’m shocked I can wake up on any given morning and my body not be broken. SO many people who never lost a child told me that time would heal me and my heart. I didn’t believe them then and I still don’t now. My heart hurts. There’s not a day that passes that I wish I could go back in time and deliver him a week earlier. I’ll always want another moment with him. Knowing I’ll never have that is the worst feeling. No one could possibly describe it.

Just earlier today, I saw an informational ad about depression. They listed of all the symptoms and I just sort of laughed.

‘If any of these symptoms last longer than two weeks, you could be clinically depressed.’

What does it make me when I’m depressed for twenty months and most likely the rest of my life? I don’t really think about those questions, but with the contrast of the ‘happy’ and ‘cheery’ holidays, it really shows. For all this time, I have lived without my child and know that I will never see him physically again. Christmas music and lights don’t change that fact. Yes, I want to celebrate more and am open to that, but it’s still not the same.

It never will be.

I guess I just would like to say is no matter how you feel during any point of the year, a grieving parent (and anyone really) has the right to feel whatever they need. We can’t get down on ourselves for not feeling what we’re ‘supposed’ to feel. This is a journey without any rulebook.

Say their names. Tell their stories.

No matter if it’s been twenty days, months, or years, our children did live. They matter and love never dies.

Tonight, I’ll be attending a Christmas program from bereaved parents. I plan on updating everyone on how it goes and want to post a little more this month since school is over on the 13th. Continued thanks to each and every one who has followed me through my journey. If you need anything from me, even just to listen, please reach out.