Two Years

Lyra,

Two years without you.

Love and miss you more than you know.

Mom

Wrapped

I'm wrapping presents in brown paper this year. I've gathered paper bags from the grocery and have a roll of brown paper as back up. I use yarn to finish off the presents, penning a flourished first letter of the person's name in place of gift tags.

It feels simple. Which is just right. The smooth brown planes of paper wrap each gift without exuberance. Without proclaiming some magical time of year with bright colors and fabled old men flying with hooved creatures. It let's me feel a part of the holidays in my own time...decorating it as works for me.

When the nurses took Lyra away to be dressed, we requested she just be in a simple dress, or just the blanket. We didn't need her all dressed up. She was beautiful and perfect just as she was. She was brought back wrapped in her blanket, and a simple white dress spotted with pink flowers. I so wish we would have known it was okay to hold her longer. To unwrap her and see her. To rewrap her as all mothers do their babies.

Thoughts fall on her more often this month. More often than the daily thoughts I already have of her, that is.

Wishing you all peaceful moments this holiday season.

Updates

This past Sunday, Simon and I traveled with my family to my old college town. The choir was performing the Me.ssiah and it would also give us a chance to update Lyra's grave.

I never know whether I'm supposed to smile in these pictures. "Look how great I look in front of my daughter's grave!" I inevitably smile because it's just what I do when there is a camera. But it feels funny.

Simon was wowed by the Christmas decorations, and it was freezing. But it was nice to go back and see her spot. I miss her.