It’s been four years. It doesn’t really feel that long unless I read my previous entries and I’m proven wrong. It has been that long.
Five years ago was the last Christmas we spent with you, in an unfamiliar place that almost reminded me of Shake, Rattle, and Roll. I watched you get wrapped in sheets of powdered carbon, laying there while the acetate blackened by what supposedly had the power to remove all the toxins from your body worked its magic. I read a book by the shore while you sat in saltwater, hoping to be rid of the liquid your body had been retaining, causing you to bloat. I laughed in amusement as you slowly slurped your liquid pancit.
Five years is pretty long. Half a decade, a young preschooler, more than your entire high school or college stay. But five years is also pretty short compared to the years prior to that First Christmas. I always wonder if I’ll ever get used to it or if I’ll ever forget how painful it is to lose someone you love. And every year, though the tears are no longer as frequent and steady as the first time, I slowly begin to accept that I’ll always remember. And it’s okay.
Though I sometimes wish things would remain the same, I know that change is expected. This time next year, I don’t know if we’ll even be staying in the same home. There will be new people in our lives. And there will probably be new traditions to get used to. But one thing I know for sure will never change, I will always have a family to come home to.
Merry Christmas! I hope that you have a family to celebrate with tonight. ♥