Yesterday the kids and I tromped through a tree farm to find the perfect Christmas tree. It is the first time we have done this since Brian died.
Last year, one of my my daughters said "We don't have enough pictures of Dad on our tree!" So, being the mom that I am I went out and bought an ornament to put his picture in. Here I am sifting through a drawer full of pictures... a drawer full of memories to find the perfect one. Then it hits me... AGAIN... that there will never again be a chance to take a perfect picture of him. All we have is a drawer full of pictures and the memories in our heads. How I wish I could take those memories and make them into reality.
Reality of a beautiful life. A life gone much too soon. A life that left those of us who love him with nothing more than pictures in a drawer and memories in our heads. I wish I could freeze those memories and print them so we wouldn't forget... because the truth is, memories fade. Brian is part of our "what was" and will never be a part of our "what will be". Pictures help to keep those memories alive, but it is so hard when looking for that "perfect" picture to know that we have a finite amount of them...
Christmas and the holiday season is hard. Though the weight of Brian's absence is never gone, it is especially heavy at this time of year. As our family makes new memories he is here in spirit. Yesterday as we traipsed through the tree farm looking for that perfect tree, I told the kids stories of some of the tree hunts that Brian did together. They laughed at some of them and I hope that I was able to weave a little bit more of Brian into their memories of this Christmas.
As my winding path of widowhood journeyed through the tree farm yesterday and memories of Christmases past, we also created new memories as we found the perfect tree... and on that perfect tree will be a new ornament showing our never ending love for him... long live love...
