Oh. The Holidays.

It’s hard.

It’s not stopped being hard for one day since my son died.

The holidays come sweeping in, and there we are, two mothers waking up in the dark of the morning, wondering how it would feel to be springing out of bed to take care of our beautiful boy.

There I am at work, wondering why it is that everyday around an hour or two before it’s time to head home, that I’m reduced to tears. Wishing I could snap out of this reality, that there will be no little boy dressed in plaid pants with a sweater and a bow tie waiting for me at home with his matching mama, waiting to take on the next holiday celebration.

There is no family picture this year.

Last year was the photo of Gina and I on the beach, with her hands on Luca, and our silly excited faces, along with our usual goof ball picture of Jackson and Penny. 12 months later, and what a difference a year makes. We’ve experienced so much love and loss.

I can’t seem to stomach planning our picture. We haven’t even gotten around to sending thank yous to all the people who bought presents for Luca’s arrival. How can I wrap my head around a card wishing a happy holiday, when there are moments like this where I feel we are grasping onto life by the tips of our fingers, ’til the nail beds are white and numb?

I’m broken. Beneath this ton of hurt, sometimes I feel like I’m going to crumble into a million pieces.

I can put on a semi happy face, and make like everything is okay for a few hours, but right now, as the decorations are in full effect, as families are sharing their holiday cards, as my insides feel more and more empty with the loss of my own flesh and blood, I can’t do it.

At this moment, I can’t do it.

I sort of know that down the road of my life, there will be a day, when I won’t have to try so hard, where I won’t be faking a smile everyday.

I say I know, but I feel like losing Luca makes me really not know anything about the future. There are no guarantees. So maybe it’s better to hope, and imagine seeing me in the future, smiling. A genuine smile.

How far away in the future is that me?

And will that future me ever happen on the 10th, or the 11th, or around the holidays?

I don’t know the answers.

And that’s what I think part of this experience is; the letting go, and accepting that I will never really know.

So for now, as much as I am able on a day like today, I hold on to hope.

Floating in the sky. Desperately holding on to hope.

Floating in the sky. Desperately holding on to hope.

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