Oh My Baby, It's Cold Outside

Oh my baby, it's cold outside. My mothering desire to comfort, protect, nourish, and care for you did not not depart when you did. The weather finally feels like December. Yesterday it was 36 degrees shortly after sunset. All I could think about was how, every cell in my body, ached to put a warm blanket on your grave. Because it's cold outside. And you are outside. 

If you were here, I would put fuzzy socks on your long feet. Tiny socks that would get lost in the wash. I would bundle you up in a jacket and kiss your nose, making you giggle. When we snuggled on the sofa, your daddy and I would hold you in a soft blanket, reading aloud books. We would delight in your first experience watching the magic of Christmas lights, staying cozy by the fire. 

And we would take it for granted.

This December, I listen to our "Isabella" wind chimes heralding the changing of seasons. The chimes my cousin gave me in memory of you. My heart continues to shatter at the knowledge that you don't need a blanket. The deep-seated mama bear within me wanted to climb over the cemetery fence last night to lay a thick blanket over your grave. 

It turns out your grandmother and I both had to remind ourselves repeatedly that you do not need a blanket. Your body is in the cemetery, but you are not. And yet, we both heard the howling of the frigid wind and knew your body was cold. We separately told ourselves - it is illegal climb over cemetery walls long after dark. It would be trespassing. You are below the frost line. A blanket might blow away or kill the grass or get stolen. You don't need a blanket.

My love for you is fiercer than death. I would zealously battle death for you. Wage war to prevent the clot or obstruction that formed so stealthily, stealing your oxygen.

My love for you may be fiercer than death, but it cannot conquer death. Yet someone did conquer Hades. Someone with the power to defeat death, once and for all, for everyone. You are in the presence of the one whose love for you is not only stronger than mine, but who has dominion over the grave. The long prophesied Messiah, whose birth we celebrate this month, defeated death. And he loves you. "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Cor. 15:55-57).

Your spirit is whole, healthy, safe, warm. You are more alive than I can even imagine. Even so, I know I will have to remind myself countless times this winter that you do not need a blanket, even though it is cold outside.

Photo: Creative Commons