Molly Piper

Orison led the charge in writing these letters to Santa on Christmas Eve. He even served as scribe for Morrow for his letter!

Thankfully we already had a remote control car for Orison and a clipboard lying around the house to give him. A friend of ours ran an 11th-hour errand to pick up the construction paper. Orison was thrilled!

Morrow didn’t seem to notice or care that he didn’t get anything on his list. I think probably the power of suggestion (read: Orison) was responsible for most of the things on there anyway.

And bonus points for anyone who can tell me the source for the question to Santa, “Did you have a good summer?”

[photo via the amazing Wendy Maybury]

Some of you will have gotten one of these in the mail recently, but not all of you. I wish I had the money (and time) to send them to all of you, because getting personal mail is just that awesome, isn’t it?

But I do sincerely want to thank you all for your continued participation here on my site. And I wish you the merriest of Christmases and the happiest of New Years from our Piper clan!

I’ve mentioned before that music was unspeakably healing to me in the first months and years of grief after the death of our daughter.

For some reason, Christmas compels me to share a couple. Maybe it’s because there’s so much frickin’ happiness at Christmas, and I remember feeling so desperately unhappy those first couple Christmases. I remember getting the album Snow Angels at Christmas time in 2007, our first one without Felicity.

I have particular memories of playing–no, blasting–this one over and over with tears streaming down my face anytime I was in the car alone.

I don’t want to explicate why it was so comforting to me. That’s not how music works. If it grabs you, it grabs you. If it doesn’t, then no amount of my explaining it will help you feel what I feel when I hear it. It punches me in the gut still today, in the best kind of gut-punching way.

Don’t forget to pray this week for people shedding more tears this Christmas than sharing smiles. Remember them. Listen to a song for them. Light a candle for them. If they can’t ask for the white horse for Christmas for themselves, hold out hope for them and ask for it for them.

White Horse
(Words and Music: Detweiler)

Bring me a white horse for Christmas
We’ll ride him through the town
Out into the snowy woods
Where we will both lie down

Underneath white birches
Our faces toward the sky
We will make snow angels
With our white horse standing by

Hush now baby
One day we’re gonna ride
Hush now baby
Our white horse through the sky

Bring me a white horse for Christmas
We’ll ride him through the snow
All the way to Bethlehem
2000 years ago

I wanna speak with the angel
Who said do not be afraid
I wanna kneel where the oxen knelt
Where the little child was laid

Hush now baby
One day you’re gonna ride
Hush now baby
Your white horse through the sky

No bridle will he be wearing
His unshod hoofs they will fly
Keep a watch out this Christmas
For that white horse in the sky

Hush now baby
One day we’re gonna ride
Hush now baby
Our white horse through the sky

Hush now baby
Let every angel sing
Hush now baby
One day we’ll ride again

I heard this song the other night for the first time. There were more than a few tears.

I recommend it if:

• it feels like the holidays suck
• you’re battling for joy at Christmas
• you’re in the throes of a grief journey
• you know someone on a grief journey

Maybe you fit into all those categories.

So if you want a good cry at Christmas (I personally love crying) go ahead and hit play. If you want to wait til you can have that good, cleansing cry, wait til later, light a candle or ten, and then hit play.

I love the sentiment of the song–we’re gonna grieve. We’re gonna grieve hard at times. And then there’s still going to be joy for some things, too.

That’s the epitome of the holidays if you’re in the early days or months of a grief journey. There are times when it’s just hard. Christmas? That time of family togetherness? What if you’re family isn’t together and never will be this side of heaven? And what of the warm, fuzzy feelings? What if there are none of those? What if they’re further off and farther between than they’ve ever been?

I know some of you who are experiencing your first Christmas without your son or daughter. They should be there. They should be gathered up in your number, bundled into coats and carted off to Christmas Eve service. They should be whisked off to Grandma & Grandpa’s house and endlessly adored by all privileged enough to know them. That’s why it hurts, right? They should be there.

We’ve had four Christmases now, and I still cry. And somehow there’s still joy at Christmas.

There’s Still My Joy (by Indigo Girls)

I thought I’d post the lyrics here too so you can read along:

I took my tree down to the shore
The garland, and the silver star
To find my peace, and grieve no more
To heal this place inside my heart

On every branch I laid some bread
And hungry birds filled up the sky
They rang like bells around my head
They sang my spirit back to life

One tiny child can change the world
One shining light can show the way
Through all my tears, for what I’ve lost
There’s still my joy
There’s still my joy
For Christmas day

The snow comes down on empty sand
There’s tinsel moonlight on the waves
My soul was lost, but here I am
So this must be amazing grace

One tiny child can change the world
One shining light can show the way
Beyond these tears for what I’ve lost
There’s still my joy
There’s still my joy
For Christmas day
There’s still my joy for Christmas day

I apologize for the poor quality of this video (taken with my phone), but I just had to show you why I don’t blog anymore.

I had walked out of the room for a minute and then found all three of them up on the bed when I came back. I have no idea how they did that! And then they were all rockin’ out and dancing together. It was awesome.

This is why I rarely have bloggable thoughts. Imagine this kind of energy, all day, every day–awesome and exhausting.

Super cute bracelet, right?

My friend Tiffany makes these! She co-operates a wonderful company called Legacy Bracelets. When Felicity died, she offered to make me one to honor the family God had given to me.

At first glance you’re probably thinking, “How does that bracelet represent your family?”

Oh, just wait…

The bracelet actually flips inside-out to display whatever images you select! It’s a portable brag book. Or a portable honorarium. Or maybe both.

You can visit their website and read their FAQs, but the basic concept is:

• You browse the pattern selection and choose the design you want for the outside of the bracelet.
• You submit your photos and/or text you want included to Legacy and give them any special instructions (there are 7 tiles in all).
• They do all the cropping and color treating.
• You get your bracelet shipped to you!

I seriously love mine. If you’re trying to think of a creative, heartfelt Christmas gift, this might be the one. Their order deadline for Christmas is 12/10, so order one SOON!

PS-I have the classic design, the Tiffany.

PPS-They didn’t ask me to blog about them. I just wanted to. That’s kinda how I roll on this blog anyway. And I really love this product (“I love your product, man,” in my best Melissa McCarthy voice).