So strange, yet welcomed. Overwhelmingly so. Until now, I’d never seen it before and yet, there it was in his very own writing. My name, my husband’s name and his name on a Christmas card. From him to us. I mean, there is a chance that he had added his name to a card or something when he was little, but that would have been years ago now. Eight years to be exact.
Seeing his writing on that card kind of took my breath away when I first saw it. Though it was simply a set of names, it was our names. His and ours together in the same space and it meant more than any words can express. While it is clearly one of my most treasured items, I will admit that it made me happy and sad at the same time. Happy to finally get to uncover something very personal of his, his signature, but sad that so much precious time has been missed out on over the years that I’ll never get back. Never.
In many ways, we are virtual strangers to each other by matter of circumstance, yet he is the only one whom I ever truly fell in love with upon first sight some sixteen years ago nearly. Thankfully, nothing can change the titles that we hold with each other, me being his aunt and him being my one and only nephew. Many days, those titles are the only thing that I have left to hold onto, and I’m still learning to be okay with that. Anything else is a bonus. A lot of things have been taken from him and I unjustifiably, but I am grateful that not everything lies in the hands of others. Presence can be taken away, but feelings of love cannot be. Those feelings belong to me and I am in control of them no matter what someone else says or does. Love, unconditional love, is the other thing that I have left to hold onto and I intend on holding on to it as tightly as I can in the coming days, weeks, months and years. Forever and always. Meanwhile, his Christmas card with all of our names carefully printed on it will become an everyday reminder of what can be, what one can hope for—a good way to begin 2021, I figure.