The Christmas Calendar

This week, I finished up the annual Christmas calendar. Ten+ years ago, we started making calendars for the grandparents every Christmas, using pictures from the previous year. It takes me a while to create them, so they often don’t get made until school is out. This year, it was especially easy to put off until the last minute – for both conscious and subconscious reasons. I knew sorting through the last year of photos would be difficult.

All the lasts.

All the firsts.

The last calendar he would ever be in.

There were a lot of things about Christmas that I was very intentional about - like the Christmas tree. It would require pulling all of the boxes out of the attic, rearranging the furniture in the living room and dining room. And the boxes of ornaments. I wasn’t emotionally ready to pull out nearly 30 years of memories represented by all of those ornaments.

Ornaments from our dating years.

Ornaments from our honeymoon.

Ornaments from every “big” trip we took.

Ornaments that simply made both of us smile.

I did not want to cry every time I looked at the Christmas tree.  So, easily enough, the kids and I found an inflatable tree we loved, and it has been perfect for us this year.

Then, there was the busyness of December, a month that was always overwhelming even with both of us here. Two kids’ birthdays on top of all of the other holiday activities. Being up late on Christmas Eve every year, wrapping all of the gifts at the last minute. So, I shopped early, wrapped early, and did all I could to reduce the stress of the month.

But the Christmas calendar.

I needed to do it.

I wanted to do it.

I filled the trashcan half full of tissues as I made it.

Last Christmas - the final pictures I have of the four of us together.

January – our last family outing, with the last picture taken of the two of us.

February – our final date night.

March – And suddenly, there are no more pictures of him to be taken. No more memories to be made.

April through December – The first of everything without him.

Knowing all that was going on behind the scenes of those photos.

The eyes that had lost their sparkle.

The smiles that were only half as wide.

The deliberate choice to make as many beautiful memories with my kids as I can in the short time I have left before they graduate.

Facing a new year to come, one in which he will have never been a part. A year that will never see his face or hear his voice.

However, far greater than all of these lasts and first, there is Someone who is “the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end” (Rev. 22:13).  “Who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Rev. 1:8).

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment” (Rev. 21:6).

And that is how we make it through. We keep our focus on Him. We keep trusting His promises. We keep believing He is enough.

And while we head into this next year missing those who are no longer here with us, He will be here with us in all of our todays and all of our tomorrows. Emmanuel, God with us. And nothing can take that away.