wrapping for one…

On Kate’s last day of school before the Christmas break, my “to-do” list is crazy long. I’ve got to get so much done before she returns home. Item number one on the list is wrapping Santa’s gifts. As I sit down and start organizing and cutting and taping with Santa’s special paper, it hits me like a ton of bricks. This year I’m only wrapping for one. Not two. And then the tears start flowing. 

That’s how it’s been working these days. I’ll be doing okay during the day, getting through, then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, something sparks a memory of Jackson, and it’s all downhill from there. It just hurts. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Your child isn’t supposed to die before you. They’re not. We’re supposed to be a happy family of four. Jackson and Kate are supposed to grow up and have their own kids and live happy lives. Eric and I are supposed to live until we’re 80 or 90. At least that’s what my plan was. Unfortunately, it wasn’t God’s.

As I compose myself and start wrapping gifts again, I start thinking. What is Christmas like in Heaven? Are Jackson and his friends busy preparing a big celebration? I mean, hello! They are going to celebrate Jesus’ birthday with Jesus. Wow! I know what goes into Christmas down here. I can only imagine the magnitude of the celebration in Heaven. I’m picturing Jackson scurrying around with his cute little grin. Having fun and helping decorate for one big party. I bet they make their own gifts and give from the heart, expecting nothing in return. I bet it will be the largest, most beautiful birthday cake you’ve ever seen. I can only imagine the heavenly host of voices singing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus. The party probably lasts all day long, well into the night. I’m even imagining a magnifying array of fireworks shooting into Heaven’s skies.

Honestly though, as great as that sounds, I’d rather be wrapping twice as many gifts this year. I’d rather be singing Christmas carols with my kids. I’d rather be telling Jackson 100 times not to touch the tree or the nativity scene or to be careful with the ornaments. I’d rather be worried that I have equal amounts of presents for both kids. I’d rather go to Christmas Eve service with both kids sandwiching me in the pew and shushing them to be quiet. I’d rather see Jackson and Kate run down the stairs together on Christmas morning with excitement brewing in their eyes as they see all that Santa brought them. I’d rather be teaching Kate and Jackson about the REAL meaning behind Christmas. Instead, Jackson is experiencing it first-hand. As much as I miss him, and as bad as it hurts me, he’s one happy boy, I’m sure of that.