Stocking hung with care

Tonight I hung my husband stocking. And the tears just flowed down my cheeks.  His stocking is hung with great care.  A way for us to remember all the Christmas's we spent with him. But the realization that all we have is this stocking and our memories made the tears just run down my face.

Last year, our first Christmas without Jared, my son and I created the tradition to write my husband a Christmas letter every year and leave it in his stocking. When he is older, if he chooses, my son can read all the letters to my husband. There are no rules as to what the letter has to be about, it just has to come from the heart. And when he's older if my son choses, he can destroy the letters, continue to add letters to the stocking, or just leave the letters in there and stop the tradition. But for now it is a way for us to express our sadness, our grief, our joys, our accomplishments, and our needs to my darling husband. It is a way for my little boy to keep his dad in his life. And it is a way to reach out when all feels hopeless. On the eve of one of the biggest holidays, it is a way for us to ensure that Jared is remembered. That he is included in our celebrations.

Hanging Jared's stocking should bring joy to my heart. Joy that we celebrated 16 Christmases together. Joy that he made many of our Christmas wishes come true. Joy that he is still with us in spirit. But instead, hanging his stocking tonight brought tears to my eyes. Tears that just flowed down my cheeks. Tears of sadness for all the Christmases he will miss. Tears of sorrow for all the Christmas memories we will no longer make. Tears of regret for all the Christmas wishes that will never come true.

Just many, many tears. But yet his stocking is hung up.  And it will continue to be hung up every year. Even though every year hanging it up may cause me to cry, it will also cost to remember my darling husband at this most blessed season.