We are big readers in my family. My two year old is completely in love with books and it's wonderful. Every night before bed, I let him pick out a book or two, we get into his tiny toddler bed, snuggle up and read. It's the best part of my entire day.
Tonight, he picked out this book:
I've had that book hidden since Christmas, so I don't know how it resurfaced. It's not that I'm opposed to reading Christmas stories in February. Or that I'm sick of looking at snow in real life and therefor have no desire to read about it (even though I am). It's because I was given this book just prior to 12/14. And I read it for the first time to my son after 12/14. I read it to him before I skimmed the book. I had no idea what to expect from it. And the very last page destroyed me right in front of my baby. So, tonight, while I was a bit more mentally prepared, I was still torn up. And being the therapeutic tool that you are, you all get to share this with me tonight.
"And that's when I got it. That's when I knew.
The one thing that was missing from Christmas was you.
And so then, my darling, wherever you roam,
may you always be safe...may you always come home.
For as long as the world still spins and still hums,
wherever you are, and no matter what comes,
the best part of Christmas will always be...
you beneath my Christmas tree."