Jessica Hildrum

I seem to have misplaced my Xmas spirit

I swear I had it the other day, I distinctly remember that it was clad in red and green and was kind of short with a pointy hat, but now it’s gone.  Crap!  And Xmas is, after all only a little over a week away.  While I certainly do believe in Santa, I suspect that if I don’t get my finger out and start shopping there is going to be one disappointed little 7 year old and equally disappointed 42 year old (ex-hubby).  Not to mention 3 stockings completely devoid of the basic necessities (toothbrushes, shampoo and chocolate) – 3 empty stockings does not an Xmas make.

Between us, I did actually go to the store today with huge shopping plans and a “massive” wad ‘o cash (yes, the shops are open on Sunday’s in December – thank you Norgies for finally getting with the program). But as my Xmas spirit was not tagging along all I managed to do was buy a huge load of expensive crap, thus blowing the wad ‘o cash on stuff which I didn’t really need and that cannot be gifted to anyone, well perhaps to me, but I probably won’t be very impressed or grateful when unwrapping them Xmas morning.

Luckily tomorrow dawns fresh, and maybe that little bugger with the pointy hat will get back from wherever he was today and follow me around again, as is after all his duty in December – no allowance for him, he has been a bad Xmas pointy hatted gnomy thing!

But if he does come back, I am convinced that with his wafting a discrete scent of gingerbread and the very nearly almost audible singing of Bing Crosby eminating from him, it should pull me out of my spiritless funk and have me decorating all and sundry with a dusting of powdered sugar in no time.

Now, off to dream of sugarplums and hopefully a Chippendale or two in my stocking…

I wish you were here

It just hit me, this Christmas it will be two years since my amazing sister in law died.  I miss her.

I think of her often, her smile, humor and her love.  I wish she could see just how grown-up Kevin is, how much of a Hildrum he is,  he misses her too, we talk about her, laugh with memories of her and we cry for the future we wont have with her.

I am greatful for the jewelry she left me, I wear it often and feel close to her, like she is with me, I wish she were.

You’ll always be with us, we love you.

A letter to Kevin

The greatest achievement of my life is you my lovely son.

I cannot remember a time when I did not want to be a mother. I remember when I was 11 living on a ranch in Northern California, we used to climb up a tree and sitting on the thick branches, we, my best friend Carrie and I would daydream of children and husbands and life to come.

I was sure that I would have a child and that I would love him/her, that I would take care and be just and playful.

I have longed for you my son since before you were conceived, and when I finally was pregnant I made for you in me the best space, taking care of myself, staying away from stress, filling our lives with as much love and laughter as could be stuffed, prodded and cajoled in.

I sang to you every day, Kevin, I told you stories about all the wonderful adventures life has to offer. And told you over and over how happy I was that you were coming into my life.

I am so proud of you, your sweetness, compassion and humor, your intelligence, calmness and your capacity for love. To be loved by you is a joy unparalleled, you say it and show it to me every day.

You are the most important part of my life, I strive to be a good mother for you, a good, decent and moral citizen to show you the way, to be an example. I live love for you, keeping our family together, keeping those we value close, this I wish to teach you, the art of forgiving, all encompassing, unconditional love. I too need reminding, and when I look at you my heart fills, and I remember.

There is nothing that you could ever say or do that could stop me loving you and being proud of the human being you are.

I love you Kevin, my son, I love you