Dear Jonas,
I wish you were here tonight.
Your cousins created a plaque for you, and even provided red paint to paint whatever object we attach it to. They presented it to Dad and me … and we cried. We cry every day.
The pain we felt though, when surrounded by family who loved you dearly, was almost holy. Sacred. The gathering and the heartache we shared was unexpectedly beautiful. Each of us hugged everyone in the room. We held on tight, we cried, some uncontrollably and some just a little. The pain of your absence was evident in every single one of us. Your parents. Your sister. Your grandma. Your cousins. Your aunts and uncles. Your family.
Remember when you said no one would miss you if you were gone and I cried as I told you the names of every single person who would be heartbroken if you left us? That was a really long list. And I was right. There were 15 people at the cabin who felt broken at your loss. And it goes beyond our family. Your friends and their parents have reached out to comfort us in our grief. Many of them need comfort in return. Everyone who knew you is mourning. You are missed.
Aunt Carla gave Dad and me a poem about you. It said that you’re spending your first Christmas with Jesus. Here’s the part that gets me:
“I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can’t compare with the Christmas choir up here.
I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.”
When you got to heaven, did you run into Jesus’s welcoming arms? Did Grandpa Wagner threaten to tie you in a knot or tell you to wash your meat hooks? Did Grandpa Nelson sneak a Tootsie Roll to you? Did you finally feel the love that so many tried to give you? Your Aunt Jennifer gave me a little plaque that said, “I wish heaven had visiting hours.” Oh honey, I wouldn’t miss a single visit.
Yes, heaven’s your home now … but I want you here. HERE! At the cabin. With me and Dad, and the rest of your family. Playing broom ball. Driving a sled to the VC to devour a Bamboozler with your cousins – no adults allowed. Playing cards. Sweating in the sauna. Sleeping on the top bunk. Petting Belle and Twila. Enjoying the delicious food you don’t get at home. Cutting down the Christmas tree. Opening presents. (You would have loved the Comfy blanket shirt thing the cousins got.) Ice fishing. Taking the last pancake. Eying the last venison sausage. Laughing at our favorite parts of “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.” Giving Aiden a hard time about playing country music. Eating Grandma’s raspberry sauce. Drinking a pop every day. Ignoring your mom and dad because the cousins are WAY more fun. Playing Four Score with Grandma and other games with Aunt Carla. Ganging up on me with Anna when we play Moose in the House. Being YOU in your happy place.
Spending time in your happy place without you, Jonas … is not happy. Not even close. In fact, I spent most of the time crying in our bedroom because being with our family was too painful. Because you weren’t here with us. A familiar laugh was missing. A tight squeeze from behind was missing. A huge part of our hearts was missing.
I wish you were here tonight.