I miss him. The most wonderful time of the year is the most difficult for us. The lights, music and smells take me back to the three days we spent in the hospital, the last three days we spent with our Webb. Bo and Whit do not know we associate Christmas with their brother’s death. They are blissfully unaware of the significance of those dates, and we are grateful for that. But that does not mean they don’t feel it. In fact, we talk about him more than ever these days: putting the decorations up, hanging his ornaments, talking about the two Christmases when there were three boys on Santa’s lap and looking at those pictures….. It has prompted a series of questions. First, from Whit, who for the first time asked, “Mommy, when is Webbie coming home?” And then, from Bo, who is older now and needs more details about why his brother is in heaven. I answered all their questions as honestly as I could. I cried when talking with Bo because he asked, “Why did you let Webbie die? How many doctors did you take him to?” He cannot comprehend the parents who fix all of his problems couldn’t fix his brother’s. And I am heartbroken he had to come to that realization at the age of five. So, no, we are not feeling merry and bright. Christmas is incredibly and increasingly difficult. Most people acknowledge this- some don’t know what to say. But our little unit of four remains as close as ever, wiping each other’s tears and holding each other close, and really, that is all that matters. We love each other very much. We are grateful for our Savior’s unfailing love for us. We are hopeful for blessings to come. And we are remembering our angel with every minute of every day. Love and peace to all of you this season. And thank you for loving and praying for our family.
Ashley
“If you know someone who has lost a child or lost anybody who's important to them, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, they didn't forget they died. You're not reminding them. What you're reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that's a great, great gift.” ~ Elizabeth Edwards
