I was reflecting on my drive home from the Christmas tree farm. I have avoided reflecting a lot, because I don’t often like the reflection I see.
I was reflecting on the fact that this Christmas seems…fun. Full of love and life and joy and all the different emotions that Christmas is supposed to fill you up with.
I was reflecting and then I gasped. I almost had to pull the car over.
I was reflecting and I began to feel guilty. I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be sad and dreamy. Wishing for the only thing missing from my life.
I began reflecting on something new. This will be the third Christmas. First Christmas was spent drowning my sorrows in a bottle. Second Christmas was filled with smiles and dreams of what might have been.
I began reflecting on what I want this Christmas’s theme to be.
I reflected on love. The love I have for those around me. The love I have from my family both close and far. The love I have for my wonderful wife who has never been anything but wonderful. The love I have for a little boy who is missing.
I reflected on if that statement was true. Is he really missing? Is he right where he should be?
I reflected on the fact that I am not mature enough yet to believe that.
I reflected on this Christmas and how I will let it be filled with joy. There will be real smiles on my face. Real love in my heart. Real joy in our lives. Yes, a big piece will be missing to our eyes.
I reflected that that big piece will never be missing in spirit.