Today we packed up the remnants of our third Christmas without him. It doesn't get any easier to have him gone. I shed a great many tears this Christmas and I felt his absence profoundly. In my heart, I longed for just one more touch or conversation. Though his absence is not getting any easier, I find we are getting used to living with the wait for heaven and reunion. We are different people...we are a different family... and we will never be the same. That is the harshness of death. Like a fire in the house, we've all been singed by it and the smell of smoke hangs everywhere around us. But we are surviving our loss, and doing it together, and family dinners have helped.
When he was at table with them,
he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them.