December 24, 2012


Twenty-one months today, Christmas Eve. 

Her stocking is so tiny. Appropriately, I suppose. White fabric and red stitching. Empty.

I’ve been thinking about putting a handwritten note in it this year. Something to fill the empty pocket.

I’ve thought about adding a note every Christmas, and keeping them in there year round, until I add another note, until her stocking has lost it’s color and the stitching is coming apart and it’s stuffed full of letters from a heartbroken old man, still hopelessly in love, still missing his little girl.


December 24, 2012:

Dearest M,

I’m sorry.




Anonymous said...

Merry, Difficult, Sad, Hopeful, Christmas to you and yours. May Indianapolis bring brighter days.

Gwen Jackson said...


Missing our little Margot with you.

still life angie said...

This is so beautiful. It just seems impossible that life moves forward and yet it does. Another holiday without, and another holiday with. Sending love through this time of transition and of the things that stay sadly the same.

Laura Beck said...

I love the way your brain works. As heartbreaking as this is, it's filled to the brim with love and connection. She is SO with you. <3 Margot <3
Merry Christmas to you, Kari and your 3 gorgeous children.

JoyAndSorrow said...

I love this. Heartbreaking yet beautiful. We have a little stocking we hang on our son's remembrance shelf. It brings comfort to see it there, to know that maybe just maybe he sees it and knows we think of him over the holidays, and yet the permanent emptiness of it is just beyond sad.

Anonymous said...

Hauntingly beautiful. What else can we really do? Remembering Margot with you. ~Missy

Tash said...

So heartbreakingly beautiful, Josh. Pure forever love from a father's aching heart. We are missing Margot June with you always.

loribeth said...

I can so easily picture that stocking, stuffed full of years & years of notes.

Crystal said...

We send out a request to friends and family each Christmas and ask them to honor Nathan by completing a random act of kindness. (Partly, because of the Christmas holiday and partly because he was supposed to be born on Dec. 21st.) We ask them to write down what they did and any special meaning or "story" behind that particular RAOK. We take each letter or email and place it in his stocking unread. On Christmas morning, after our oldest son opens his gifts and the morning excitement dies down, we take the time to include Nathan in our Christmas by remembering him and reading each of the letters.

Post a Comment