It's Christmas Eve of the second Christmas without my son Joel. In some ways it seems like only yesterday I could hug him and tell him how much I love him, while in other ways it seems like all of that happened in a different lifetime.

Christmas was always special to Joel even more than other children. He held on to the fantasy of Santa much longer than others did, in fact he never really figured it out until his mother and I sat him down and came clean about the whole thing. We had to do it before he slipped up at middle school and caught all kinds of grief about it.

He was always our alarm clock on Christmas morning, waking his sisters and bugging us until we finally relented and got out of bed. The lined up for the entrance to the living room, taking turns being first, although I am quite sure Joel was able to finagle his way into being first more often than his sisters.

There was an infectious joy about Joel, he appreciated every gift, no matter how small it may be. I remember one year when his aunt gave him a gift that duplicated one he had already received at home. He never let on that he already had it, he gushed and smiled and thanked her profusely, he didn't want her feeling bad about her gift. No one really knew that side of him, he kept it hidden deep inside.

Oh don't get me wrong he could be as petty and selfish as anyone, especially when it came to his sisters, but there was always a part of him that really wanted the best for others.

I think that is what led to the tremendous outpouring of grief we witnessed at his visitation and funeral.

So as another year comes to a close without my beloved son I can only say what I said on the day he died.

A light has gone out in the world, it has become a darker and sadder place.

My only hope now is in Christ Jesus, that he has prepared a place for us in Heaven, and that some day I will once again place my arms around the shoulders of my son and hear him say in a booming laughing voice,

Hey Pops, you made it, let me show you something.