Friday, December 23, 2011

Thankful for him and Him

 I have to confess something: I have been kind of having a pity party about some things. Our lives have changed so drastically that when I look at how things go these days, almost nothing is like it was a year ago. Alif is busy recuperating (read: sleeping, doing word searches, playing Wii, going on long walks etc.) and I am busy doing everything I was doing before as well as much of what Alif used to do (Christmas shopping, for example). It can get overwhelming, and I don't always handle it well.

In many ways, I feel like I lost my husband in April 2011. It's easy to focus on what we don't have, what is different, what's harder now. I told Alif last night that it feels like our life is divided: Before and After. I wondered aloud if it would always feel that way, and he said it probably will, though the differences are less drastic as the months go by.
 But then I think of Christmases past. Alif & I rising groggily from slumber to excited voices. Alif making coffee, Mama readying the camera. Smiles all around, albeit sleepy ones. You see, we'd been up very late, night after night, making our list and checking it twice, making piles of gifts and hastily wrapping them, making silly jokes that no one else would understand.

A couple nights ago Alif was resting on the couch while I wrapped gifts *my* way (not hastily but thoughtfully). I was so tired that I hit my deliriously silly mode and started to belt out, "Heeee's the boogie woogie bugle boy of company Beeeeeee!" The hilarity of it hit me and I started to giggle. First it was, "why in the world did THAT song pop into my head??" then, "Isn't it amazing the things we'll do in front of our spouse that we wouldn't do in front of anyone else?" Then Alif said, "C'mon, let's hear it again!" Ha! We were a sight.

Last night we stayed up way too late, wrapping again, talking, laughing. And then today I read about a friend who lost his Dad years ago today. It was such a precious reminder of what is left. There is much missing and our lives ARE very different today than they were a year ago. But oh, I'm so blessed. Christmas morning I will awaken next to my man. Our children will pad down the stairs and onto our bed. We'll tease them and remember baby Jesus, grown-up Jesus, and finally we'll rise groggily from slumber. Alif will make coffee and Mama will ready the camera.
Thank you, Father. Thank you.


  1. Bless you, Emily. Merry Christmas to you and your beautiful family.

  2. Ah, Emily, such beautiful perspective. I think we all need a reminder to thank Him for what we do the midst of whatever trials we face. Praying for you and your family this Christmas!

  3. I totally get what your saying about wondering if it will always bee like that...but also have the differences are fading into each other. When my first baby was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and I had to start sticking his fingers 8 times a day while he screamed and count all meals and give shots that he cried and begged me not to do, I wondered the same things. It is hard to have something HUGE thrown on you. I have been reading your blogs...your doing so well. I am in awe of you. I am so happy he is still here. Your right, you have him and that is all that matters.

  4. Wow Emily. What a beautiful post. Thanks for sharing your reality. Real life sure is tough.

  5. The swiftness with which our bodies and lives can change is literally just a single heart beat, sometimes less. It is so hard to grasp that life will never return to "normal" but to have a new normal where you appreciate those single breaths for what they are, life, is pretty amazing.

    Good thoughts for you and your family. It's quite a journey.