I’m feeling down today, like a big knot in the middle of my stomach. I can’t really figure out why because I’m having a nice, relaxing day at home with Jia. I’m making banana bread and have finished addressing my Christmas cards. I need to cut out the craft for Kitty’s Christmas party next week, and I’d like to sew new names on a couple of my stockings. I should get dressed so that I can run to the grocery store, but I don’t even feel like doing that. So why the yuk feeling?

I have a couple of ideas. One is that I had bad dreams last night, and I don’t remember what they were. That’s a real possibility.

The other is just part of getting older. As I addressed Christmas cards the last couple of nights, I was struck with how many people in my address book are no longer on this Earth. Rowland’s precious Memaw died suddenly three weeks after William was born. I really loved Memaw. She loved me just because her grandson did. I can still hear her “hoohoo” when we walked in the door to her house. Then, there’s Rowland’s mom and dad. Rowland’s mom loved the theatre. She and my mom would get together and take Carson and me to see shows when he was little. Although she was much more proper than I, she always made me feel like she liked me, that I was a good wife to Rowland and a good mom to my children. She was especially excited when little Kitty was born since the family is so full of boys. It’s sad that she died when Kitty was still a baby, and she never got to enjoy her. Rowland’s dad was such a special man, like Rowland. I enjoyed the family times with him when he would laugh and be playful. He, too, was crazy about the grandkids. He never got to meet Jia, and that makes me sad. Rowland has a picture of him in his home office, and as I was getting out a cookbook today, I stopped and looked into his eyes. I miss Bill.

There are other people who have died who I didn’t see very often, but I still have memories that make me sad when I come across their names in my address book. My Aunt Bo and Uncle Ralph, my Mamaw and Pop…… As I flipped through our Grace Church directory, I was saddened to see how different some of the families are now. Some have died like Dan Barnhart, Charles Gist, and Janet Greenwood. Several others have divorced. Some have moved away, and although they were special to me at one time, I don’t have any idea where they are now. Others were as close as sisters to me, but we don’t even talk anymore. I was reminded of a friend of mine who died just a year ago and left behind three children as well as a girl I only know through the internet who recently died and left three children and a grieving husband behind. That makes me feel sad as well.

Although Rowland’s “other brother” and my “sister-in-law” live here, the rest of our families are far away. Little Kitty stood by the refrigerator this morning as I was making her some Sunny D. She saw a picture of her cousin Douglas and began to cry for her family. She cried and said, “Why did we ever have to leave Little Rock?” I reminded her that this is where God’s plan for our lives was, but she continued to cry for her family so far away. I told her (like I have told myself a million times before) that as long as the six of us are together, that’s our family. I reminded her that Camber, Cayden, and Cooper are her “cousins” and that they live less than a mile away. I hurt for her because I understand her feelings. It’s not just missing specific people, although that’s part of it, but it’s missing special memories, familiarity, the way things used to be and won’t ever be again.

As I sit here now, I am wanting all of my children gathered around me on the couch watching a movie and eating popcorn together. I’m needing to feel their arms around my neck and hear their laughter and constant conversation. I’m needing my husband’s arm around me as I curl up against him. God knows that we all just need new memories, and He’ll give them to us, but they will take time. Thankfully, no matter how much things change in this world, God’s love is constant. May He wrap all of us tightly in His arms as we celebrate the birth of His Son, a man who had to leave His Father and all that He knew to come to this Earth to be tortured and die for each of us. As the old Amy Grant song says, “Yes, you have to die for Him….but He knows the pain because He had to die for you!”