"The only cure for grief is action." --G. H. Lewes

After you have lost a young child the Christmas holidays are difficult for obvious reasons. I have to battle the intrusion of apathy and sadness and maintain some level of excitement and anticipation so that Whit and Jack can enjoy Christmas and learn its true meaning. Taking down the ornaments and decorations, I had to admit that I was glad I put them up this year, but I was also glad to be taking them away and stuffing them in boxes for the attic to be forgotten for another 11 months. You find a way to get through the holidays with your chin mostly up enjoying it with your family. Birthdays are different. In ten days Paul would be turning 8 years old. It's harder to put lipstick on this pig. At birthdays you sit around and wonder what he would be like as an 8 year old. How would his personality have changed? How tall or short would he be? Would he still be funny and sarcastic? How would he be doing in school? Would his artistic talent have blossomed? I have to be content with speculation on all these things and fight against the nagging truth of how unfair the whole thing is. Our main defense is to do something; we have to enjoy our memories and celebrate Paul's birthday in a way that we know he would love. So, that's the plan.