Teens are a unique breed of human. Most anyone who has spent significant time raising them would agree. As much as they love Mom & Dad, they usually have a hard time showing it, let alone saying it. They much prefer to give an eye roll over a hug. When given a gentle kiss on the cheek from Mom, they recoil as if her lips are a branding iron. Eldest Weasel actually jokes "It buuurrrnnnsss". However, they do indeed love and show it when they choose to.
We are now into the Christmas Season. I used to love it all. The lights, colors and shimmering paper always filled my heart with joy and the spirit of Christmas. A few years ago, Christmas changed for me. I could not bear to see the lights, hear the carols or stand the sight of the decorations. I could not muster the energy to celebrate anything and begrudged the world around me that did. I went through the motions for the sake of my children so as not to spoil their enjoyment, but my heart wasn't in it.
Christmas Present, 7 years later, is bittersweet for me. I can celebrate and enjoy. I can decorate and admire. I can shop and be excited about the treasures that I have found, but it is now always tinged by a sadness and longing. I will laugh, but I will also cry.
The other day while baking some favorite holiday treats the Christmas tunes were playing, while the Weasels sang, danced and 'helped' me in the kitchen. I love times like this, for the memories we are making, but then something stopped me in my tracks. Out of the speakers came "All I Want for Christmas is You" sung by Mariah Carey. This is a great song that I always loved, but that now will bring me instant tears.
For the only thing that I really want (and don't have) for Christmas and always, I cannot have. The only thing missing from my life is the laughter and hugs, from a would have been, 7-year-old girl who I can only visit at the cemetery, whose name is etched in cold marble, planted in icy ground as the only statement to the world that she had ever existed or mattered.
As the song began, my sweetest, eye-rolling, smart-mouthed teen, Eldest Weasel, spotting the pain in my expression, hugged me tight and we began to dance. I held her with all of my might in gratitude for being able to, as tears streamed down my face in heartache and sorrow for her little sister whom I long to hold, but never will again, in this life anyway.
Her love and unspoken understanding of what I was feeling meant so much and gave me the ability to continue with the tasks at hand in the kitchen. It also reminded me of an organization made of up individuals who have had a child's death touch their lives,
SIDS of Illinois. These are the people who carried us through that first Christmas, birthday, Mother's day and subsequent ones, with an understanding of our pain. They are the people who acted as a crutch when we were not able to walk this road on our own. This organization that not only works to support bereaved families, but fights to save babies lives, through education for parents, providing safe sleep material goods for families unable to afford them (such as cribs and sleep sacks), but also to train first responders on how to deal with newly bereft parents, while still performing their duties, in order to
prevent living nightmares such as Mr. Weasel and I experienced.
In this season of giving, if you are so inclined to give me a hug, I asked that you do so virtually, by way of donation to
SIDS of Illinois. It doesn't matter if it's $1, $5, or $500. Donate in memory of Claire Weasel (she is the featured remembrance baby of the month -
go check out her beautiful picture) via phone ((1-800-432-SIDS (7437)) or
Paypal directly on their site. You can also tweet, Digg, stumble or otherwise promote this post. Every dollar donated can mean another baby's life saved or a lifeline for a family who will need to survive their first Christmas without their child in their arms.
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