To the mom who caught me staring

My current obsession is all things Christmas.  The lights, the hot cocoa, the trees, the time with family, the feeling, the hot cocoa.... so much hot cocoa.  It's pretty magical.  

I was caught up in the magic a few days ago when I was at a Christmas tree lot.  Red starbucks cup in hand, among the Christmas trees I was soaking in all of the magic of this season when I noticed a young family picking out their tree.  The dad was leading the charge, carrying the tree they had chosen and helping the guy that worked there get it strapped to the top of the car.  The mom was wearing a typical mom uniform for early on a Saturday morning, ugg boots, yoga pants, hoodie and a messy bun.  She had a baby boy on her hip who was about 1.  He was rocking his Christmas footie pajamas, a binky, and a confused look on his face as they walked through all the trees.  Then there was their daughter who looked to be about 6.  She was dressed pretty cute for so early in the morning.  And although I couldn't make out what she was saying, she was talking a lot.  Sounds like another 6 year old girl I know.  

And then my eyes locked on their other son.  He looked to be about 3. My mind instantly raced to a place that I have to fight hard to not allow myself to go to.  2 years later, on most days I feel great.  It takes a lot for me to go to a negative place now.  If you would have been around me 1 year and 10 months ago, that would be a different story.  I could race to that negative place at the drop of a hat.  Farrah would say something that would make me cry, I would see a picture, start thinking about what life would be like if he were still here.  But not now.  Kellen is now a happy memory in my heart.  And I'm so happy that I've arrived to this stage. 

But on that day in the Christmas tree lot I found myself slipping back to that sad place.  I watched the 3 year old, distracted and not really paying attention to the task of picking out a tree.  I watched his mom scold him for kicking the gravel around.  I watched his sister yell at him when he continued to kick the gravel and kicked it at her.  

I watched their family of 5 load up into their SUV with 3 rows of seats after the tree was strapped up on top and the mom begin to do the dance of getting the baby buckled in and going around to the other side of the car to make sure everyone was strapped in.  They closed the door and were about to drive away when the door opened and the 3 year old boy jumped out and ran over to the man who had helped them, handed him a few bucks and then hoisted himself back into his seat.  

They drove away and I felt that burning in my throat and the tears started to fall.  I was happy that I was able to at least save the tears for after they left.  The mom had locked eyes with me when I was staring and I looked away.  I didn't want to be that creepy lady staring at her kids and I certainly didn't want to be the crying creepy lady staring at her kids.  I just kept thinking how that should be us.  

A month or two after Kellen passed, Abe, Farrah and I went to starbucks and we were sitting there enjoying our drinks when I noticed a woman staring and smiling at Farrah as she was waiting for her drink.  Her drink came and she hesitated as she walked past our table.  She decided to stop and she said "You have a beautiful daughter"  and she left.  

I wondered what prompted her to notice my daughter.  Maybe she was just a nice person.  Maybe she lost a daughter and Farrah reminded her of her daughter.  Maybe she wasn't able to have kids and seeing my daughter made her think of what could have been.  

Most of the time when I'm out and about I'm in my own world trying to wrangle my kids and I don't really see people.  And then there are days like that day when I see people.  I notice every detail.  I didn't say anything to them because I didn't want to cry in front of them and I didn't want to spoil their magical day.  But if I could have said something to that mom it would be to enjoy every seemingly difficult moment.  Embrace the times you have to bust out your mom voice, the times you have to break up an argument, and the times when you are exhausted but still have hours left before bedtime.  I know it's not easy when you're in the thick of it.  But from an outsiders perspective, it's a beautiful thing.