9th Eve
this morning started as any other day. Getting kids up and out the door. It is colder than normal. But a text from someone I care deeply about sent me down. “We have other plans for thanksgiving.” A bunch of us ALWAYS get together for the holidays. This is the first holiday season away from my son. My son who left way to early. At this exact moment 9 months ago I talked to him on his lunch break. Those were my last words to him. Ever. These last 9 months have been, anger. Fighting. Words that shouldn’t have been said. Sadness. It has left some of my other children with sadness. Depression. Rising anxiety. Satan is trying to steal all joy from us. We are warriors. We are family. We are strong We are weak. Family means the world to me. Holidays are a day to spend with family and kick back. Relax. Enjoy a glass of wine. Hear the kids play. Eat lots. It is meant to be shared. Our table will be one less. Forever. One less. As Bren dances with angels. Laughs often. Praises. I’