When December Wakes Before I Do

I woke up at 4:19am today.
No dream of Vic. No message from the other side.
Just the table fan still humming quietly in the dark, left on because last night’s heat was unbearable.
But the moment I opened my eyes, the weight was already there.

December feels different this year.
Heavier. Thicker. Like the air itself remembers something I’m still trying to forget.

Kenzo’s school sing-along is this Friday.
Another December event without Vic.
Another moment I have to witness alone, smiling for Kenzo, holding back tears for myself.

I keep thinking about the first time Kenzo had a school event at the new school. Vic didn’t make it then either.
He had just been discharged from the hospital that very morning.
Too weak. Too tired. Too unwell to step outside.
He tried so hard to get better… and life never gave him enough time.

What breaks me most is this:
He worked so hard to buy the house in the catchment, just so Kenzo could have a better future.
That was his dream - his gift.
But he never got to stand in that assembly hall, never got to see the certificates, the smiles, the pride.
Not even once.

And now another December arrives and everything aches again.
The memories. The missing. The moments he should have been here for.
The silence at 4:19am that feels louder than anything.

I don’t always know how to get through it.
Some mornings I just breathe and hope that’s enough.
Some days I let the ache be what it is, a sign of love that never really left.

But even in this heaviness, I’m still here.
Still waking up.
Still choosing to show up for Kenzo.
Still carrying Vic in whatever way I can.

December is heavy…
because love was real.

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