Missing winter...

So what is it about winter that always seems to snare me? I guess my overexposure to the Winter Olympics, currently underway in Vancouver, has me missing snow and all of the extra steps to daily life that go along with it. Steps like bundling up just to go out and get your mail and starting the car no less than ten minutes before you even think about going anywhere. There still exists a strong possibility that I will be living back up north again in time to see the first day of winter 2011 come around. Of course, my tolerance level for whatever the season brings will have been considerably diminished by then and I'm sure I'll have some choice words when I have to get out and drive in it again. But there is no doubt that the season brings many rewarding opportunities as well. Snow covered landscapes make for some of the best picture taking opportunities I've ever encountered, hot soups and stews make for some of the best things to fill your tummy with on cold nights and of course, Radha's first chance to flop on her back and make a snow angel will make the hindrances all worth it. I'm even planning on taking ice skating lessons this spring to prepare for the day her and I can hit the ice together. Maybe I'm reaching a bit, but it's these thoughts that keep me cool on the 70+ degree winter days we sometimes get here in Texas. I'll keep romanticizing winter for now...of course if all goes according to plan, I may be writing something a little different here in two years. At least I'll have a cup of hot cocoa in hand for the right reasons while typing away.

On his second birthday...

Today we would have celebrated your second birthday. Even though I wish we could have watched a happy little boy eat cake and open presents today, such events did not take place. We did, however, release balloons to honor your memory. Your mother, sister, Darlin' and I journeyed to a local park where we knew we could find a peaceful spot that would allow us to reflect on the all to short time that we knew you. We even encountered a roadrunner on the trail we walked together. I think your mom is onto something about these bird sightings. We found a spot where the sky stretched forever and each wrote our thoughts of you on a balloon. We did give Radha some help with her's though. One by one we watched the balloons fly away, each becoming a tiny blue dot before disappearing from our sight. As my balloon floated away, I felt it pulling my current grieving state along with it. Funny how such a simple act transforms itself into the perfect metaphor. You are still greatly missed, my son. But you are even more greatly loved. I know I am a better father to Radha, having known you first. I am thankful for the opportunity to have held you in my arms on this day two years ago, no matter how bittersweet the memories may be.

A joyful year

Little girl, you have brought so much joy into your mother's and my hearts over the past year. At times, I don't think I deserve to know the joy it is to be your father. Then I am reminded of the hellish road I had to ride in getting you here. Your first birthday has been a happy one, I expected no less. It was such a warm feeling earlier tonight, to see you surrounded by your Darlin' and Pappa and your recently re-united uncle and aunt. Just like your mother and I, each of them loves and treasures you as well. Now your mother and I will prepare for the arrival of the several other well-wishers visiting this weekend. It is comforting to know that others appreciate the joy you have brought to us. May all future celebrations of your honoring be as rewarding as this one has!

Here we go again...

So it's January again. For myself, a month of momentous celebrations and tremendous sorrow. I'm strapped in for the next thirty-one days...ready to take my ride on the roller coaster of emotions.

So this is Christmas?

Late Christmas Eve, Reese and I were bringing our tradition of last minute gift arranging to a close. When we finally decided to call it a night around 11:20 pm, we quietly ascended the stairs only to find Radha wide awake and standing up in her crib. Fortunately for us, she was lulled back to sleep within an hour and I was finally ready to settle down for my "long winter's nap".

December 25, 2009. This would be the Christmas. The one where I got the chance to live vicariously through Radha and see what it's like to experience it all for the first time. In all honesty, I like to take it easy on Christmas Day. The more time spent at home and the less spent in the car traveling to see relatives, the better. It didn't take long for me to start believing that I will probably never see a Christmas Day like that again. The sudden obligation I felt to ensure that every relative gets to see my daughter, especially on her first Christmas, quickly swept away any delusional, selfish Christmas Day wants I had. The day consisted of quickly showering first thing, opening gifts at our home, eating a quick breakfast, going to my parents' house to open gifts, speeding back home to pack for our trip, driving two hours to my father-in-law's house, eating a very good dinner with lots of in-laws, opening gifts with my in-laws (which took a while since every child gets to open gifts solo with everyone else's attention focused on him/her) and finally settling down for the night. I'm not going to lie...the whole day put my endurance to the test. In the closing minutes, I was able to add up all of the surprised looks and smiles I had witnessed throughout the day and decided it had definitely been worth the testing.

One thing I discovered over the past weekend is that there is nothing quite like Christmas and the end of the current year that makes me realize just how much Radha has grown up. Her new toys, mainly the Fisher-Price role-play and play set stuff, really allowed me to see how many skills she has developed over this past year. She took such an interest in a tea set she received that her and I played with for what seemed like hours. By Sunday, she was pouring pretend tea from the talking teapot into the purple, plastic teacups and then lifting a cup to her mouth. She is growing up. There is nothing I can do to halt that, but now I realize just how rewarding watching these stages go by can be.

As expected, the holiday could not be all sunshine and lollipops. At Christmas Eve service, Reese put an offering into the collection plate where she had written Ronan's name in the blank beside the "In memory of" line. This immediately brought tears to both of our sets of eyes but Radha's high pitched chirp during the offertory music relieved us of prolonging our sadness. We also visited Reese's grandmother during the weekend who is recovering in a nursing home from a stroke she suffered back in October. Even with her limited communication skills she seemed very happy to see us, especially Radha who, thankfully, did not cry the entire length of the visit.

We returned home Sunday night, wiped out yet again. Radha went to sleep fairly quickly. Reese and I were thankful for a few moments of time together before real life commenced in a few short hours. We had survived our first Christmas with our daughter. Now we are preparing for her first Birthday celebration. We should be able to catch our breaths between now and then.

Look how far we've come

It recently dawned on me that 2009 is coming to a close...very quickly. I have had a few great experiences in the last few months that, until now, have remained locked away in my head. A certain little girl's first Halloween and first Thanksgiving are at the top of that list. A first Christmas is less than a week away. Reese and I have been blessed to witness all of these firsts. That's not to say that there haven't been moments of sorrow sprinkled amongst them though. Just the other day, we were both missing Ronan and thinking about another Christmas without him. She asked me if it would always be like this. I answered a very honest "Yes." You never get completely over that loss and the holidays make you miss those who won't be there so much more. That being said, there's still a lot of joy to be had. We both know this and we promise not to miss one moment of it.

On reaching our eighth...

Just a few days ago, Reese and I celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. Eight might not sound like such a large number, but the amount of experiences you share with a certain person can total quite high when you see her almost every day over such a time span. Even though we've known each other for longer than eight years, what we have been through since "tying the knot" astounds me. I can recall far more good times than bad, but some of the bad have been nearly unbearable. To me, the greatest achievements of those eight years were the conceptions of two children, only one of which is with us today. I would never trade those eight years of experience away for any other eight, even if the new ones promised to omit that one soul crushing moment and several other "bumps in the road". In my book, eight is not enough and I look forward to several more years of life building experiences with her.