Christmas Letter


A year ago I wrote our Christmas Letter for 2022. I wrote of the many events of that year. I wrote of Ryan's death, of grief along with everything else. 

This morning I wrote our letter for 2023. I wrote of the things we have done this year, the changes life has brought, the time we spend with our daughters. I finished the draft. As I started breakfast I was thinking about the revisions I'd make and the things I'd left out.  It was then that I realized Ryan wasn't in it and grief poured over me. 

I can't decide if he should have been. A Christmas letter is a way to catch up, to remember a year of living and the events and changes that happened in that year.  Ryan wasn't in 2023. If I were to add him to the letter, what would I say? I don't know.  I'm too overwhelmed with what I do know - that Ryan isn't here. 

A whole year has happened. I've woken and slept, moved through each day, and none of those days were about Ryan. He didn't turn 19. I didn't make him breakfast. he isn't on my Christmas list. 

All of a sudden the bright sunshine isn't bright, the day is not inviting. I can put one foot in front of another, but I don't want to.  The grocery store will have to wait. The day I planned has faded away. 

Maybe I'll find a way to put Ryan in the Christmas letter. Maybe I won't. Maybe there won't be a Christmas letter as I give myself permission not to know how to write it, not to face it. 

For today, I'll curl up and cry, not for the letter, but for the year he isn't in.  

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