Daniel,
I work so hard to be here in the present, and to be available to your siblings, your Dad, your remaining pets. and to your nephew. Most of the time, I think you would be proud. Sometimes, of course, your departure still hurts. You know, I can still remember clearly having bought your Christmas presents for 2008. I remember what they all were. I remember also that you lobbied hard to be given a particular one, prior to Christmas, and I said "no". How was I to know that you would depart the day after Thanksgiving, and would not be here on Earth to open any of them? I wish I'd given it to you. I never parted with any of those gifts. Instead, we unwrapped them on Christmas Day that year, and placed them in your room. I suppose I thought that some of your siblings might play the video games in an attempt to feel close to you somehow. In any event, they haven't been used much and, at this point, they are nearly new copies of antique games. Your little nephew is fascinated with knowing about you and about your things. It's funny how he always recognizes your pictures and is excited to see them.
This week, I was out getting a few last minute things for Christmas stockings and I ran into a woman we know. She was talking about what makes it Christmas for her, and she was centered on a lot of the foods we associate with this season. I told her that, for me, the music is what touches me, and what readies me for Christmas. It isn't only the old songs or the traditional carols that do this, but it's the new songs too. Each year, there are new songs which help me to deal with the alternate reality in which we find ourselves, and that help me to reach the point where I am able to celebrate Christmas with you, and with my Dad being on the other side of that veil.
This year I have not been disappointed. This is a sweet song that is fairly new, and will help me to salvage and to travel through this Christmas meaningfully for yet another year.
I love you Daniel, but then, you know that.
