A 100% True Christmas Story

Another Christmas, come and gone. It was not the best, or the easiest holiday but it was still nice. The girls were happy and that's what really matters. We had our family over our house on Christmas Eve (and in turn infected half of them with the TYPHOID, unfortunately...)




and then on Christmas PJ had to work at the firehouse, so the girls and I went to my mom's.




After Christmas dinner at my mom's I took the girls to the firehouse to visit Daddy. On the way home they were both conked out in their car seats, so tired from a long day. I decided even though it was dark I should at least drive through the cemetery and visit Jack. I don't often go to the cemetery. I don't like it. I don't feel Jack is there, I don't like to think about his little body being buried in that ground, but i felt like i owed it to him to go on Christmas.

I felt such huge, huge sadness, thinking about my little boy, and where he is now... thinking about last Christmas, holding him in my arms, having him still here. I was stopped at the light to turn left onto the street where the cemetery is, crying, sobbing, missing my baby, dreading the cemetery....

When everything in the car started going off. All at once. My cellphone started ringing. A toy steering wheel I know I had turned off earlier started making noises..."Vroom! vroom!! We're here! Fill 'er up!" The navigational system that wasn't even on the windshield, was laying on the floor, kept saying "Lost satellite reception...." It scared the hell out of me. And then I said, okay Jack. You're here. I know, you're here. Thank you.

I turned down the street towards the cemetery, and it is a nice little cemetery, no gates to keep you out, no huge mausoleums, and i could see it up ahead, all lit up with little candles and luminaries people had left on their loved ones graves. And just before I reached it, the navigational system went off again. I don't know why. I had no destination set, it wasn't supposed to be sending me anywhere. But it told me to turn left at the next street...

The name of that street is Jackson Place. When we picked out his plot, we saw the street sign right across the way and couldn't believe it... we knew at that moment, it was the right spot.

"Turn left at Jackson Place, then turn left...."

So I did. I didn't go to the grave, though I could see it. I turned left, and headed home, with all three of my babies in the car.