Christmas Card to Heaven.

** The writing and pattern and sounds don't really flow/make sense... 

but i'm still 'sending' this, unedited, unre-read, 

because its what I'd want to say, today... **

If I could send a Christmas card to heaven, I'd write her and this is what I'd say:

The children are flourishing!  Mom, you'd love to see!  You wouldn't imagine Camilla's giggles and squeals and wide-open eyes and smiles and face -- curious and learning, asking "why?" and questioning me.  Wanting to know about cement trucks and health care and teaching and Presidents and me.  Asking the opposites, "happy or sad?" and "healthy or sick?" and full conversations to follow.  Paragraphs, believe me.  The car is never quiet, the house is never still, she's as rambunctious as ever, but now mostly in her brain.  She sits quiet at story time and listens intently, she eyes friends and neighbors and still loves to hold my hand.  She asks questions about God and faith and belief and heaven.  Where is He?  Where is that? and I just pray for to believe.  We call them "sprouts" to see.  She's a transforming metamorphosis, from crazy to curious, loving dolls and dollhouse and some independent play.  She's a daddy's girl and Nan's favorite, reliving Michigan memories and the CYMA (ymca).  Her best friend is Kalea, and together they giggle while play.  She loves church and Bible Study and Jesus and Moses. And surely, mom, she would love you, too!

Judah is fascinating, learning something new each day.  Proud of standing and clapping and waving and saying "mama."  This month has been amazing, moving from 8-9, watching his eyes light with knowing and his body create the energy to follow suit.  His ears are so much better, the tubes have seemed to work.  He's still smiling and gummy, but now has one tooth.  His favorite thing is music, he hears the word to dance and now is our "Mr. Piano Man."  He makes sounds of anything, drums the toys and tamborine; his second favorite is the Sesame Street and clearing that little house clean.  He climbs up on Camilla's kitchen, emptying every box and bucket, then smiles that one-tooth smile knowing the mess is seen.  He doesn't care to read, but will open and close everything -- from the coffee pot to books to trash can.  He's loving unwrapping the toilet paper and time with Grandpa makes him gleam.  His eating is still frustrating; butternuts squash the staple, some smoke sausage and turkey and rice in-between.  He rarely likes to sleep, and naps are overrated, for why sleep through the night when there is mom or dad to be seen?!

Mark is dad and husband and blue-shirt wear-er.  The HOA President and small-group leader.  He wears so many hats you'd be amazed and proud and wondering and see him waring...  He's watering the grass and writing emails, grilling steaks and pushing Camilla on the swings.  He tries so hard at everything, and about that you would beam.  He's still handsome and stunning and polished, though those gray sweatpants are cozy too.  He's got a new job -- at Sealed Air -- and is working again with purpose.  He's got his passion back, and loves the people there too.  It's good to see him thriving, exhausting as that may be.  He still takes me out on dates, and we're even planning a weekend away!

We've had lots of adventures, that's what our family does.  From airplane museums to zoos, apple-picking to hot-air-balloons!  We've driven to pick pumpkins, taken the train to see the bears, swam many Saturdays at the YMCA and driven to Michigan too!  For Christmas we "visited" Bethlehem, but spent summer at Smith Mountain Lake.  Nan and Grandpa built a pool, so that will be on next-years to-do.  We've stayed busy and connected with Community Group, what chaos and commitment to add that in too!  But we want friends and Jesus followers pushing us onward and upward too.

And me, mom, I'm always swirling.  Full or wondering or wishing or wanting.  Exhausted with these endless hours, and yet still somehow thriving.  I know I'll look back and see pictures of Judah's grins or remember Camilla's giggles.  I'll find my rosy-glasses and forget how hard it really is.  But mostly mom, this Christmas season, right now I'm just missing you.

I'm missing you, with your hugs and caring, your Christmas cooking and carol-singing.  I'm missing your applause and clapping, somehow words to say you see me caring.  I'm missing Smith surprises, bustling with games on Christmas day, or holidays filled with gyms of people, joy and echoes bouncing along the way.  I'm missing you with your Christmas sweaters, your lipstick, your quiet time for tea.

I'm missing you for all the years you loved us all together, as one, as a complete and real family.

I'm missing you mom.  So I'm sending a Christmas card to heaven.

Love and hugs always, Mom.

Love,

Me