This Christmas.

It’s killing me.

I am so happy to watch my little man look at the tree and the lights with wonder in his eyes. He loves all the commotion and excitement. He sees Santa and says “HO HO HO”. When I drive by lights in trees, he says “Hi tree! Bye tree!” and he is completely enamored with the fact that the bulbs on the tree look like balls.

But it’s me and him. No partner to share it with. We got a little tree for my bedroom and at the tree farm the families laughing and having fun nearly brought me to my knees. I cannot even type this with out tears welling up and rolling down my cheeks. My picture of a family is just shattered to bits and I cannot come to terms with it. That little boy will always have a different life than I had. Mom and dad may have fought but they always made the holidays fun. Growing up I thought my family was just like ones in the movies. I still think I was blessed to have a Mom and Dad who showed me what love and sacrifice look like. But my son, he will watch his mom and dad separately. I will always have to struggle to be strong for him. Make him think that his life is no different from any other (It really is not).

This year I get to tuck him in on Christmas eve. And watch his sweet face wake up to gifts in the morning. He won’t be there for the delicious Christmas Ham that my dad cooks. He wont be there to play all afternoon with all of his new gifts. He will be gone. Next year, will be my worst Christmas yet. I hate to think about it. I won’t tuck him in and read to him about Santa. I won’t see him rush down in his jammies to see what is under the tree. My heart is so sore from all the sad, I cannot bare to think of next year. But it’s going to happen.

So this Christmas I will cherish every second. Every drop. Because I will only get to see him for half the Christmas excitement as a regular parent.

Half. I feel so robbed.

Well, shit.

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