And on Christmas Day, it is a day of joy, of love, of giving... and yes, of receiving. Christmas Day is a day to rejoice! We are surrounded by family from both near and far and the love we feel in our hearts that one, special glorious day we hope sustains us for the remaining 364 days during the year. We run towards Christmas with enthusiasm, with anxious anticipation with our arms spread wide and our hearts open. Christmas is glorious!
Christmas this year, also marks 8 weeks to the day that my beautiful daughter, Morgan left this world.
She fought an eating disorder for 7 long years. There were so many hospitals, and treatment centers, and doctors and nurses. There were so many prescription drugs. The seizures she began to experience frightened us. The last two years of her young life were spent exclusively with me. I took her to her weekly doctors and counseling appointments. And yet, we still laughed. Countless hours were spent playing backgammon. And how this emaciated waif so ill, could manage to whip me 2 out of every 3 games will remain a mystery. We watched Game of Thrones together every week. We shared a love of Mambo Taxis. She laughingly referred to me as "her twin." When she walked into a room, people knew she was there. Her personality was huge. Her will, her essence, lit up a room.
And now... there is a hole in my heart that realistically will never be filled. I am trying to fill that hole by starting a foundation and will get 501c(3) status for it. I have spoken to medical experts in the past 7 weeks, doctors with whom I had a relationship whom are looking into revolutionary, new treatment regiments for those suffering from this insidious disease. I have applied to speak at a number of TEDx conventions. In Morgan's name, we will make a difference and we will save lives!
But all of those "noble things" are corporeal matters of this earth. The hole in my heart remains. And yet, on Christmas day, I will be with family or friends, will see their smiling faces, their healthy, happy children. I will feel a deep sadness in my heart which could, and has, taken down many others. And yet, that sadness will not define who I am. That sadness will not destroy me.
At Morgan's "Celebration of Life" when I spoke, I said that she had "The Heart of a Lioness and the Soul of a Warrior." Who would I be to shrink from these very same words? What right do I have to live small? Yes, I am a battered and bruised man on the inside. But, I am not broken. My will is resolute and I feel Morgan's love for me inspiring me... the love that sick, frail little child had for her daddy is my candle in a very dark room. And that candle will never go out. It will forever burn!
I see now that that is the Christmas gift she gave to me this year. A child's unconquerable, unstoppable, unconditional love for her daddy. What better Christmas gift could there possibly be? For truly, if a parent's love for their child is the very first Christmas gift, then surely, a child's love for their parent... that candle of life, burning so brightly in a parent's heart and soul is the perfect way to say "thank you" for that first, wonderful Christmas gift.
And so, at 11:31 o'clock p.m., on Christmas Day Evening, 8 weeks to the moment she left me, I will light a candle in Morgan's honor, will recite the Lord's Prayer and will look to our tomorrow's with hope, with faith, with love. And so too, I invite you to light a candle in Morgan's honor that same time... or at least on Christmas Day. And for one brief moment, one silent moment, one perfect moment on one silent night...not just in your head, but in your heart and in your soul, rejoice that you are loved and that you love others. And always remember that Morgan's candle provided just a bit of light in your soul that night as well.
Just One Candle.
