HUGMAS

Zayden, my heart aches in your absence. No distraction has been enough to ease the pain. Last night, I cried into the fur of your dragon, and this morning, I added my tears to the ocean at the beach. The sorrow doesn’t stop. Today should have been a joyful celebration, watching you excitedly tear through the wrapping paper of your presents. It should have been filled with giggles, your playful antics with new toys, and snapshots of you in your adorable new outfits. Instead, the day is heavy with tears, anger at God for taking you from me, and an overwhelming emptiness that I can’t shake.

In the hardest moments of this day, Ms. Dawn reached out with a message that offered a small comfort. Instead of saying Merry Christmas, like so many others, she said "HUGMAS." That word resonated deeply—HUGMAS perfectly reflects what I long for most today: hugs from you, Zayden, hugs from your Grampa, from Ms. Dawn, Ms. Amelia, Ms. Jenn, and Steven. That simple word brought me a moment of solace in the midst of my grief.

This isn’t a Merry Christmas, and that’s exactly what I want to shout from the rooftops. I know everyone means well, and I appreciate that they’re thinking of us, even if their words feel hard to hear. It's difficult for them to find the right thing to say, just as it’s hard for me to answer back. My responses are brief, a simple "same to you," before the tears start flowing again. And then, I remember Ms. Dawn’s thoughtful message—HUGMAS.

Her message has sparked something within me—an idea for the very first fundraiser for Zayden’s Crusade Foundation. How many families, overwhelmed by the challenges of caregiving, need a HUGMAS instead of a Merry Christmas? Let's bring them the support and comfort they truly need.