Slowly opening my eyes, I was delighted to smell coffee brewing.
While I never drink coffee, Christmas morning always began this way. My mother stayed overnight at my house to see the children open their stockings, so her coffee brewing permeated the house.
Startled, I threw my house coat on as I ran to the kitchen.
It was impossible for my mother to be there.
My husband stood beside the coffeepot, frowning at my tears.
“I thought this would help, make you feel good, make you feel her presence.”
It only made me feel the loss more.
My mom had died earlier that year, unexpectedly
As I’d prepared for my first Christmas without her, my heart just wasn’t in it.
Ten plus years later, it still isn’t. She gifted something irreplaceable to Christmas.
Memories of her loving looks as someone opened her gift or watching her share moments alone with each grandchild and their stocking gifts pile slowly piled up beside all the Christmas Days we spent together when I grew up.
Too many bittersweet memories fill my thoughts on Christmas Day.The light of my mother’s remarkable love shines on in my memory, especially at Christmas.
Some people are simply irreplaceable.
Perhaps, this Christmas, for the first time you are missing someone irreplaceable too.
My sympathies are with you.