I have been putting this post off due to the amount of tears I cry every time I go to write it. I serioulsy am shocked sometimes at the things that can bring me to my knees with tears and then other days just equally hard situations occur and I can be stronger than the Hulk through them. I think that is why grief is so hard because it comes in waves. Sometimes those waves are gentle and allow you to catch your breath as you ride them through the moment and other times it's as if the worst rip tide is pulling you under as you gasp for air through your sobs. Perfect example is today a patient just trying to engage in conversation asked me why I seemed so tired this afternoon. I giggled and told him my daughter is going though a phase where she wakes up multiple times a night and comes in my room, so after playing musical beds it's frightening when I add up the amount of sleep I actually get LOL. "How old is she?" he asked. After telling him she was 3 1/2 he said "Well how many children were you blessed with?" BAM now I may not get out of this room fast enough without making a fool of myself if I can't get through this question without keeping it all together. I survived and was still able to say I was blessed with 3 and luckily he did not ask me all of their ages. Because that's where it gets tricky. I always inculde Braxton in my count it's just hard when it ends up leaving the person who asked me feeling bad after they learn one of mine is no longer with us. It is a battle and it is a personal one I understand. But it is my choice that I decide to include him in my number. That number is special to me and he is as the man worded the question "a child I was blessed with!" I could go on and on about this topic but will save if for another post so I can share the meaning behind the picture I uploaded today.
For as long as I can remember Christmas at my Grandparents home (my O'Meara side) the stockings were the focal point for me. My Dad being 1 of 7 kids meant the mantle was not big enough to hang all their stockings. So instead my Grandma always hung them along the staircase in the dining room. The stockings were very different than any stockings I ever remember seeing in anyone else's home except the O'Meara kids and nieces and nephews. They didn't look old but you could tell they were handmade and special. It wasn't till I was older that I learned they were handmade by one of my Dad's Aunts. Each one was knitted with a different Christmas scene or object on it and then had their name knitted into the very top of the stocking. My personal stocking at my house matched my Dad and his siblings but my brothers did not... even though it was knitted and handmade it was different. Once again as I got to be older I learned why. My stocking had been made by my Great Aunt, the same one that made my Dad's, but my brothers was made by my Aunt Sharon, my Dad's oldest sister. You see by the time Robert and the younger cousins came along the original knitter in the family was no longer with us; therefore my Aunt Sharon picked up the tradition. Well now if you were to walk in any of my cousins home who now have kids of our own we all have a special handmade stocking for our kids. It is something I absolutely love about our family. And it is something I absolutely love my Aunt Sharon for continuing so that our kids can one day have the story with their grandchildren. And I must add these handmade stockings have always been larger than any of the stockings my friends had growing up which was a bonus come Christmas morning LOL. My brother and I still have to leave them at my Mom & Dad's in order for Santa to fill them for us so when Brent and I got married I had to resort to purchasing our own stockings for him and I. They do not even come close to what I grew up with!!!! I will never forget when I recieved Leighton's stocking and then last year Jean Paul's for his first Christmas. I still love sitting on the couch and seeing their names hanging from the mantle!!!! In 2012 when we lost Braxton it was never a question if he would have a stocking hanging every year on our mantle, but it was something that was our choice and also something I would never expect my Aunt to knit for me. These stockings can take as long as 9 months to make and I never wanted to ask her to do because just because I needed him to have one does not mean everyone else does. So I bought a stocking that I thought fitted my sweet boy and monogrammed his name on it myself. It was great it was different but that was ok. A few weeks ago I recieved a package. As I began to open the package I had know idea what was inside. Once I got the tissue paper unwrapped and saw what was inside I was in tears. Inside was a handmade stocking that matched my other babies stockings and at the top knitted into the top of it was BRAXTON. I still am unable to put into words what this means to me. I have always been beyond blessed with family that recognizes Braxton as part of our family, but in this moment it was more than just recognition. It was acknowldegemt that he not only is my son, he is her nephew because he existed even if it was only for a short time. To a mother of a baby lost before it was time that sort of acknowledgement is irreplaceable. My Mom finally found the words through her own tears and let me know that Aunt Sharon had seen Braxton's stocking hanging every year alongside of ours and knew it was time for him to have his own from her. She also didn't know if it was her place to just assume it was something I may want. Unable to call her I finally sent her a message. I needed her to know how much it meant to me but that I would not be able to talk about it yet because I was just a hot mess lol. Suprisingly she also felt she was unable to directly talk about it just yet. So as we decorated our house this Christmas I saved the mantle for last. And as I hung each stocking I couldn't help but cry with pride that finally I had my own family to experience the magic of Christmas with. And just like I have always wanted I hung the last stocking, Braxton's stocking. And as the tears fell I realized it was not something that I just wanted all these years it was something I needed. The timing could not of been perfect because I was finally able to realize and admit to myself my family is complete. And as I sat on my couch staring at our stockings that our family is not and will never be complete unless Braxton is included. We are the Bergeron's family of 5.... even though we are not all here we are a family. And without any of us we are not complete and that includes Braxton!
So this year as the last stocking was hung a Grieving Mother was prouder than ever to see all 3 of her blessings names hanging from her mantle.
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