Christmas Exchange

12.29.13

     The next afternoon, my family was doing our traditional gift exchange at my grandparents house. Our group of about 20 people gathered out on the sunporch and laughed as we exchanged gifts.
     Sam had gotten my Aunt Sondra as her person to buy a gift for (we use to do a white-elephant gift exchange, but this year we did a secret santa type exchange). I was sitting across the room behind my grandparens and beside Alex, and we all watched as Sondra ripped off the wrapping paper. My heart sank. The box was a Buy-Buy-Babybaby box with the pink, blue, yellow, and green pastels on it. I had a flashback to the last time I had been in Houston, which was for my baby shower, and I started to get upset. My mom was sitting on the other side of Sondra and caught my eye, and, being my mom, knew that I was about to lose it. She said, "Don't watch." and shook her head to try to help me focus on something else, but it was too late. Sondra had laughed when she saw the box and looked at Sam who replied, "We had a lot of those boxes around our house!" I quietly excused myself and went back into the house. I almost ran to one of the back rooms where my parents stayed and just started crying. I let myself be consumed with my complete misery of remembering the last time I had seen one of those boxes. I'm sure it had contained a really cute outfit or maybe a set of pacifiers for my soon-to-arrive baby girl. Maybe I had said something cute or witty before I opened it, making all the girls in my family laugh at me. Alex hadn't been home yet, but of course for most baby showers the Dad doesn't come unless its at the very end to help move the big items that were received.
    I cried really hard in the back room of my grandparents' house. I knew there was no danger of anyone hearing me through the house and the chaos of Christmas, so I just let it out. I wailed. I still do that sometimes when I get overwhelmed. It just feels better to be vocally grieving instead of always trying to grieve in hushed voices.
    After a few minutes, Alex came to find me. He does this thing where he gets on one knee and talks to me when I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. His stance is one of pure love, and it always puts our faces at the exact right height with each other.
     "What happened?" he asked, not understanding what had caused me to leave the room. I started explaining how that seeing that silly box had affected me. "She didn't do it on purpose," he said (not that I had ever thought that Sam or anyone in my family would do something on purpose to make me sad). "You are going to get to have another chance to open presents with those boxes in them." He continued.
      "I know, its just hard." I said. Alex gave me a big bear-hug like he usually does when there's nothing left to say, and then helped me get up and head back out to the group.
      Later, I found out that Ash and Sam had both asked where I ran off to, thinking that I had probably just needed to use the bathroom or something. But I think my Aunt Sondra knew. She may not have realized it at that exact moment, but I think she totally understood and understands that sometimes, out of the blue, I still get overwhelmed by my grief. But throughout the months since Kaitlyn died, I have learned to be okay with that.
      I'm not perfect, and God doesn't need me to be perfect. He just needs me to trust in His plan for reconciliation. He takes my brokenness, my sadness, and still turns it into a beautiful song.