It's almost one o'clock on the morning. I'm glad I haven't actually made my resolutions yet or I would have already broken them: go easy on the sugar, go heavy on the sleep.
I've been thinking about Nicholas a lot lately. And crying. We passed the cemetery where he's buried and I said to Paul and Ceci, who were my only passengers that day, "this is our cemetery, guys. St. Nicholas, pray for us!" But then when they started talking and asking questions, as I knew they would, as they always do, I just couldn't keep it together. Thankfully they were buckled snugly in two rows behind me and were easily distracted by the mention of....something. I don't know, but I changed the subject as quickly as I could so I could swallow the lump in my throat.
As I lay nursing sweet Charlie the other evening, I sobbed. Huge, terrible, wracking sobs, because my boys would never get to play together here on Earth. I'm crying again now just sharing this with you.
Last night Paul brought me The Legend of St. Nicholas for his bedtime story. Easily talk of St. Nicholas of Myra turned into chatter about our own St. Nicholas, and their innocent voices chirping in their sweet way, Cecilia saying this, Paul asking that, someone hopping from one foot to another, someone else trying to tell a silly joke, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't answer their questions or chat with them. I just cried, sitting in the middle of the sofa, flanked by two of my living children, Charlie sitting on my lap happily slapping the bright pages with his dimpled hands.
Truly I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I'm not very good at sharing sorrow and luckily, blessedly, I haven't had much of it to share in a very long time. But he's been on my mind so much lately. Maybe doing the photo year in review was the tipping point. Because, you know, he's not here with us in the way I want him to be, the way I wish he could have been.
All of this just really makes it so clear, so, so clear, that loving more doesn't mean loving less. Loving more people doesn't mean less love to go around. The more children I have, the more friends I make, the more I really learn and try to love the way God calls us to love, the more love I have. The more I feel the ache to love my boy here in my arms. The more I give and do with those I have in my home, the more I feel Nicholas' absence, the joy that's missing as he is missing.
The more kids I love, the more I love my kids.
I love you, Nicholas. Pray for your family, okay?