Christmas 2024

 

Frenchie,

You’ve been gone for ten months now. This is our first Christmas without you.

Last night, all I could think about was how many times I drove with you on Christmas Eve to get gift cards for the kids. You loved Christmas — it was always such a big part of our children’s lives. Now, looking back on all those years, I want to establish traditions that our children and grandchildren will remember long after I am gone to be with you. I’m not very good at traditions… well, at coming up with them — so I’ll have to ask around for help.

I woke up this morning and looked at your face on the pillow, whispering a quiet Merry Christmas. I took a shower and got ready for the day, but this year I didn’t put much effort into decorating. It didn’t seem right without you. Honestly… nothing seems right without you. I’m still trying to process the fact that you are gone — and the terribly tragic moment on that beach when I watched you leave me. The nightmares are still unbearable.

This Christmas was very quiet. None of the kids came over. I drove by Blake and Chloe’s home… and then by Kaitlyn and Brian’s. But I didn’t stay. It hurts to think that our grandchildren will not know you — the laughter you brought, the joy you added to this family, especially on Christmas Day. Thank you for all the years and Christmases we spent together; they truly were magical.

Dr. Lettieri called me today to check on me. I thought that was really sweet of him — a kindness I didn’t expect, but one that warmed my heart.

I found myself thinking about that Kathy Lee watch. I teased you so much when I opened it, knowing exactly where you bought it — Walmart, the night before Christmas — with Mike Scow by your side, hunting for anything that would make Jenny and me happy. I still have that watch, still in the box it came in. You swore up and down it wasn’t from Walmart, but we both knew the truth. We got so many laughs out of that moment, and you were always such a good sport when I teased you.

I keep thinking about Christmases past — and I cannot think of one that wasn’t full of fun and joy because Christmas meant so much to you. I remember our first Christmas after we were married. We had Kayla and Blake. They were so little, but you made sure Kayla felt extra special that day. Blake was only a few months old, so we knew he wouldn’t remember — and I’m sure Kayla doesn’t either — but you bought her a little doll, and she loved it.

I was alone most of the day, and I was okay with that… until it got dark. Because then I knew I would be walking up those stairs to bed alone. And now I’m sitting on our bed, looking at your pillow and wondering what you’re doing today, where you are, who you are with. I wish I knew exactly what happens after death… all I know for sure is that I will see you again. The covenants we made in the Temple — the promises we made to each other — will make every moment of this loneliness worth it. Eternity with you sounds perfect.

I love you so much.

Merry Christmas, Babe.
Love,
Monya