​The first day of September brought me heaviness.  I could feel is coming:  Autumn.  It brings the change of weather. It brings me one season closer to the holidays, and to one year since losing a piece of myself.  In previous years, September would already mean humming Christmas carols as I bake pumpkin bread; just waiting for Fall and Winter to bring warm and joyous feelings. 

This year, I haven’t been sure how I feel about the holidays.  It’s usually my favorite time of the year, but this year is different.  This year, I have to celebrate our first shared birthday without him here, if you can call it a celebration.  On that first day of September, I was filled with dread.  I picked up my phone and did a quick search on the first day of Fall.  I stared at it, stunned.  This year, that dreaded first day of Fall is on the 22nd.  The 22nd of every month is significant.  Lincoln should be one month older.  He should be just a little bit bigger.  He should be reaching new milestones.  The 22nd is always filled with memories and emotions.  

September 22nd… 9 months…. It didn’t feel like a coincidence.  It felt like a reminder.  Find the good.  Look for him.  Honor him.  Keep moving forward.  Throughout that first week of September, my wheels kept turning.  How could I find a way to look forward to the holidays?  How could I make sure that I enjoy them, like I know he would want me to?  After a few days, I came up with my answer.  

Lincoln is a Christmas baby.  Were he here, every year we would’ve struggled to make sure his birthday felt like its own event: like something special.  Since Link isn’t here to get birthday gifts, we’ll make sure other children do instead.  Christmas charities are the perfect way.  Though I’ll post the specifics in December, I’ll say that I felt such a sense of relief.  All I’ve wanted since losing Link, was to know that we could still use his life for something good.  I was instantly emotional.  The moment that I decided that I would honor my son and help others with his life, a weight was lifted from my shoulders.  

This morning, I walked out the front door and it felt like Fall.  The weather has cooled down and the humidity has lightened.  A week ago, this would have made me sad; but today, with my son in mind, I can honestly say that I am looking forward to the new season.  The 22nd of December will be a difficult day, but I’m going to try my hardest to truly celebrate the time that I had with my baby, and all of the things that he has done: for myself and for other people.