Christmas and Alex

I have said that I do not want this blog to be about sadness, but there are some things so profoundly sorrowful that I am making my own exception.
It has been 15 ½ years since Alex died. That means 15 Christmases have passed. One would think it would get easier, and I suppose that is true in some ways. But the pain of his absence, and the person he would be now does not ease. My coping skills are better, but the pain in my heart is acute. It no longer has the power to keep me hidden away, but I try to hide my sorrow in plain site. Everybody wants me to be okay, and I understand that is about their love for me, but I have such a deep sadness which defines a big part of my heart. It is impossible to ignore, particularly at the holidays.
So, I will just say it. My heart hurts, my tears hurt, my body hurts, with a sadness so deep that I rarely speak of it anymore. There are no new things to share about Alex, because he cannot make new memories. I miss him; who he was and who he might have become. My sweet, sweet, boy who would now be a man at 32 years old.
When I drove away from the cemetery, after leaving his wreath, I felt as if I were leaving my baby behind. My husband pointed out that he left us behind. But try as I might I couldn’t make him understand that it was not a logical thought, but a feeling.
I cannot rationalize my pain to make it go away. I must acknowledge it, and then move away from it as much as possible. Alex would not want me to continue to suffer, and I am trying not to. As I have said before, success can sometime be measured by just getting out of bed. And I am doing much better than that. But my heart still hurts, so I guess that is just how it will be.