A Letter To You- A Note On Christmas Eve

It's Christmas Eve, the sun has gone down and Nat King Cole is singing in the background. The trees are lit and grandma"s village is set up around the house. It smells of spices and baked goods in preparation for tomorrows dinner.

There are a few presents under the tree and the stockings we have hanging over the fire have a few small parcels in them.

 Mom and Dad are waiting until we go to bed to put their presents under the tree and fill the stockings like the elves of Christmas.

As I gaze at our stockings, I look at where your's should be. A small one hangs there now, as a remembrance.

I imagine which one you would have. One like ours, of burlap and muslin and lace? Or the brown velvety suede one? Or would it be the one with cream and tan ticking?

I imagine it filled with toys and fruit. A little cup. A new toothbrush. Maybe some chocolate covered nuts and raisins. A stuffed animal sitting in the top with an old-fashioned candy cane between his paws.

I imagine you opening a present tonight, a pair of pajamas. Just like we got every Christmas Eve.

I imagine what would happen tomorrow if you were here. Waking up early and runing down stairs to open presents, smiling with anticipation of what they could be. Toys and books. A new coat and pair of boots. A hat and some earmuffs. A pair of mittens and a warm scarf.

I imagine what could be. What might be. About how much more magical it would be with you here.


Merry Christmas, my little one.