From my journal December 27, 2002:
My sister is here. She came for Christmas, and I am very glad for it. But I’m not very good company. I’m so much more silent and withdrawn than I used to be. So much more subdued. I feel like I just observe, like I’m on the outside looking in.
Both Jenna and Eric were working yesterday, so Doris, Joe and I went shopping at the mall. On the way home, we drove by the cemetery so Doris could see Jason’s headstone. She hadn’t see it yet.
I felt like I had done Jason an injustice by not going by there on Christmas Day. It just felt so wrong to have celebrated Christmas without him. I hadn’t felt wrong about all we had done to celebrate Christmas up until that point. Then it seemed like we should have skipped the whole thing since he wasn’t here.
I know we need to do things. Our lives don’t stop – can’t stop – even though sometimes it feels like they should. Like they have.
I mostly followed Joe’s lead – getting a Christmas tree, getting presents, the whole Christmas Day thing. I really tried. But, as I stood there yesterday, I felt like we had cheated Jason by celebrating at all. He wouldn’t have wanted us not to celebrate Christmas, though. I know that. But how can we “celebrate” without him? How do we “celebrate” without him?
Doris had a difficult time at the cemetery. It’s really hard to see Jason’s name on a headstone. It’s too much reality, reality your mind doesn’t want to accept. It shouldn’t be him! He’s too young – so much life ahead of him; so much he could accomplish; so many lives to touch with his amazing heart. Such a good heart. Such a good guy.
© 2011 Rebecca R. Carney