Ezra with Art's oldest cousin, Langston with his oldest cousins.
Pallas just two people away, sitting next to Nana.
As the church sang Silent Night, I cried. I missed hearing him sing next to me, the deep reverberations coming from his chest. I missed holding his hand.
I missed our family, the old family, the one where all our kids had to sit with us. I didn't have the energy to make them sit with me. I sensed they needed to find comfort in making it different than the last time we were in that church, together.
As soon as I finish this post, I will put the Christmas gifts out.
Last year we...well I did it, as he sat on the couch. The cancer already ravishing his body, making him weak. And to think, we didn't know it.
Our tradition was to put the gifts out over a bottle of wine, crackers and cheese and Christmas music.
We'd eat the cookies and he'd take a sip of the milk.
We'd laugh and giggle and he'd shush me, which made us laugh harder. We'd kiss.
I miss him, I miss what we were. All the good things we were together.
And in the next moment, I am ready to move on. Feeling well equipped to enter another relationship. Well equipped because of him.