Sometimes the biggest comforts come from the smallest things.

So big that it can crack you to pieces and crush all that you are to the ground.

If you are lucky and survive it, life forces you to start to reassemble the rubble bit by bit. Sadly, that often means that you have to wrap that rubble in layers and layers so that it won’t fall apart again. Those walls can shut out the biggest of comforts, rebuff the hugest helps and the healing that is offered from them.

Sometimes it takes something tiny sneaking in unnoticed through the little chinks and cracks in the walls to start nourishing the sad and twisted center inside.

Christmas is hard for someone who is missing a loved one. I feel Matthew’s loss very keenly this year. Much of this is because of my wee Little Button, Aaron.  I have felt many of the anniversaries about Matthew much more because while it is more joyful then I can tell you having a little baby around our home again, it is a reminder of what is gone. I am more excited and looking forward to this Christmas then I have been in six years but Aaron is only a few weeks younger in age then my Little Bug would have been at Christmas and that makes me ache. It isn’t the gut-wrenching sense of loss I have had at times, but I miss my boy.

My Matthew.

My Little Bug.

He never got to see even one Christmas and that hurts me a lot. And the season is a constant reminder of him. I do the UGLY cry when I watch any scene involving Bob Crachet and Tiny Tim and of course, Christmas focuses on the baby Jesus and the miracle of his birth. Matthew will always be a baby to me, so I think of him often during the holidays.

And it can be painful.

Sometimes my loss is so acute and painful and lonely I can hardly catch my breath.

But there is also great comfort that finds me in all this.  And not just me, but other people who loved and adored that sweet red headed little one of mine.

One particular Christmas was extremely difficult. My brother-in-law got married on December 23rd and all the family came up for the wedding. It was wonderful to see everyone, especially one of Jonathan’s cousins and his wife. We were pregnant at the same time and our boys were born within a week of each other. We had such fun at family gatherings talking about baby stories and sharing tips and comfort with one another.

When we were all seated for the wedding dinner, I looked over at where they were seated and saw their little boy who would be just Matthew’s age. I watched him playing around in his seat and being helped by his mother and wondered how big my boy would be and if they would have been playing together at the dinner if Bug had lived.

I sat at the table and a wave of intense sadness washed over me. I missed my boy. I thought how I missed his chubby hands, his soft cheek and kissing him on the bridge of his nose. I missed munching on his tummy and watching him splash in the tub. I missed watching him suck on a pacifier and all the sounds he made.

Just then I looked down at my empty plate.

There was one solitary lady bug crawling on it.

A lady bug.

In December.

Jonathan saw it, too. We looked at each other and both our eyes welled up for a moment. We let the tiny creature crawl on our hands and fingers for a moment and let our boys see it before carefully putting it in a warm section of the room out of harms way.

Watching that small, colorful bug crawling happily on the white tablecloth lifted my spirit immeasurably. It was like someone took my heart and soul and gave it a warm bath and a hug all at the same time.

This is not the first time I have had that experience. One birthday of his was extremely hard on me. I was hurting so much and we try to make his birthdays joyous and a celebration of his life, but I was not in a joyous, celebratory mood. I feared I would ruin the day and I went to find some solitude to try and pull myself together.

I walked out on my porch to discover the ENTIRE side of my house was COVERED in lady bugs. I have never, ever, EVER seen so many in one place. I usually don’t see more then one or two together and this was a literal SWARM.  I smiled in amazement and my heart didn’t hurt nearly as much. I was able to enjoy the joy of his life even though I was hurting.

Someone I love is going through something that is very difficult. She LOVED my son. She adored Matthew more then I can say and she was absolutely shattered when he died.

Today was  hard and frightening to her.

We were all concerned for her.

She had to walk into a huge building and do something that, while right, was daunting and difficult. She was with her sister and mother and aunt and she didn’t want to walk in. They stood standing in the freezing cold of the morning outside the big glass doors and suddenly one of them gasped and pointed.

“LOOK!!!”

Crawling right toward her on the  freezing, frost bitten sidewalk was a solitary, stalwart, sweet little ladybug.

The little group teared up. Matthew was very special to all of them. And she said she was ready to in. She knew that Matthew was there with her and that she knew it would be alright.

And it was.

I have been so badly scarred in my life that sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to have faith again in anything…yet I still do.

It is there, even if it is no bigger then a lady bug.

Some may say that these things are coincidence, but I say that it was a very needed gift from a very special boy who knew his momma missed him at Christmas and who knew that someone that adored him to his toes needed a guardian angel of courage in her hour of need. And if you had had the chance to get to know and see the fine, powerful, STRONG spirit Matthew was blessed with you would know that there is NO ONE in the heavens better for that job then my son.

Thank you for these tiny moments of comfort, Little Bug.

Your love is a big, wonderful thing.