hans's ornaments

from justin's dad last year, his antique ice skates:

from justin's mom last year, the parents-to-be cup:

from my mom last year, the first in what was to be a childhood full of wooden ornaments, another pair of ice skates:

and from my mom this year, his second wooden ornament, a prop plane:

when i opened the box from my mom friday and realized the little green box inside was his ornament, i started to cry. i hate it when i cry at work. i waited to open it until i got home, so justin and i could open it together. there's so little mention of hans in my world not made by justin or me; this acknowledgement of him means the world to me. when i talked to my mom last night and told her so, she said she wouldn't have thought to not get him an ornament.

my mom doesn't always understand, but sometimes she really gets it right.