A Mother's Gifts of Grief this Christmas

It's Christmas Eve and the first Christmas without my son and his father. I am keeping it together, mostly. I have been so busy working, looking for work, hiking, or playing in the snow, I have not had much time to grieve. I mean, I have been working in a retail store during Christmas, the music alone has made me want to slit my wrists. But I haven't thought about that. Not today, anyway.

I can't let it in this year­…it is too early.

For the last several years, and especially since Eden began living with his dad, I insisted on having both Eden and his dad, Terry, join us for Christmas. My daughter would grit her teeth, my mom would tolerate him, but my heart would be happy and full.

It was nice to have what was once my nuclear family all under one roof for Christmas. And I know how much that meant to Terry.

Terry appreciated being invited and, more importantly, spending it with all of his children. He drank too much, spoke too loud, laughed inappropriately, and said things he likely should not have.

But, he was part of the family, and you just accept people where they are.

For people on the Spectrum, that takes a little bit more effort!

You see, for years, I could see Terry's death coming. I knew he would not live to be an old man. I knew he would meet an early demise. I had zero ideas about how that would come to fruition; I suspected a heart attack or suicide, but not what actually took place.

I could not have imagined that my son would take his dad's life and then his own in a million iterations of reality.

So, given this pretty precice inuitive hit, I insisted each year that Terry be part of our family gathering. Where Eden went, Terry went.

Ironically, they went into the afterlife together, too.

Eden would always show up to my parents with a huge smile on his face, bearing gifts he was so proud of. Last Christmas, he was employed and had a little bit of money, which he splurged on hats for everyone. He bragged that he got them on sale; that was cute! And he would select the most beautiful cards and write eloquent words inside of them. He was such a gifted writer.

I wish more people could have read his words… if he just would have stuck around a little bit longer.

Last Christmas, Eden gave me a scratch-off map to keep track of where I was going to travel when I took off on my road to who-knew-where. I loved that gift so much. It was so well thought out for me. I had hoped he would have been able to join me on my travels, as we shared the same wanderlust.

What's that, Eden? I was just reminded that he IS on my travels with me, enjoying every moment. He nudges me from time to time when I get it wrong. When I forget that we are not separate at all and he is very much present. He is always schooling me on how it really is—the truth.

Last year, since I was so financially destitute, I bought thoughtful cards for everyone, and I wrote everyone words of gratitude in letters. I told Terry how grateful that I was for him taking care of Eden and trying so hard. I kept the focus on the positive. I watched Terry tear up as he read it.

I told Eden how so incredibly proud I was of the man he was becoming, he read it to the room! God, I love that kid. I miss him so much.

"But I'm right here behind you, Mom."

Yes, I know, Eden. I know. Merry Christmas my sweet angel baby. Tell your dad we say, hello.