~How is it that we experience such a diverse charge of emotion at Christmas time? I can’t sing through a chorus of Silent Night without thinking of my life as a young girl. Tears well up and I am thankful. Christmas holds us accountable by its very presence reminding us of all the good we have and experience in our lives through the birth of one child, Baby Jesus~
It was December of 1993 when I unexpectedly found myself on a direct flight to Houston. Alone. I settled in my seat and stared blindly out the window to oblivion. Longest flight ever.
Dad wasn’t doing well.
I denied and held back every sinking feeling I intuitively had. I could not be fearful. He’s gonna be okay, right? After all, every year I’d come home, he was always the only one to greet me at the airport. For 15 years. Noone else but him and this day would be no different.
But, that wasn’t the case.
Mom and Kevin met me at the airport. The look I was hoping for met me with gripping sorrow and uncontrollable emotion instead. I knew it was too late. Mom had told dad all evening, “Pam’s coming home honey. Hang on, she’ll be here soon”. She knew he would be excited to see me again.
But, he just couldn’t wait.
A few days later we buried my dad.
It wasn’t long after the funeral Mom and I were driving in the car to her hair appointment late one afternoon. Neither one of us could barely talk without crying. So we didn’t. Those were quiet somber moments. I would hold her hand. She would hold tight to mine. I loved her. And we were only days away to Christmas.
I don’t remember much about Christmas that year. But I know I had a father that cherished everything about me, his only daughter, and honored the blessing of life in his family. He was all that I ever needed in my life growing up as his little girl. And now he was gone.
Mom is in a nursing home now. I still live thousands of miles from home as before and I can see her smile through the phone when I talk to her, if that’s even possible. She often talks of dad and what we had as a family. I love listening to her. The stories. Oh, the stories. She lifts me. She encourages me. Tell me once again mom.
And here it is Christmas of 2016. I have seen and have had the greatest blessings a person can ever ask for. Great kids, wonderful husband, terrific friends and a life worth celebrating in every sense of the word. Literally. I love my life.
Then why is it that I supress feelings to fully enjoy Christmas? Every year?
For those who have lost someone or have experienced a devastating loss, we combat an emotion that grips us so powerfully. At Christmas. Not in February, not in July, September or November. But at Christmas time.
Why is that? Are we only believing that if we don’t feel this way, we’re not normal? Is it expected of us? I truly want to feel fully captivated in the season’s spirit. But it’s hard.
When we are young, we REACH in search of bigger and better things. Comparatively as we grow older, we REFLECT and cherish the days that are behind us.
Maybe this is my challenge.
I came from a loving family. I now LIVE in a loving family. But I miss my dad. I miss seeing my mom. Oh to have them both physically in my life right here and now, whispering to me: “I am still here. I love you and am very proud of you”. I would turn, reach back and feel their warm embrace.
Because of the tremendous blessings and memories I can hold to, I can truly be at peace.
So… I promise to live fully, love graciously and seize the magical morning that Christmas brings. Every year. For you both. Enjoy your 23rd Christmas in Heaven, dad. You taught me the wonderful story of Jesus and how when we know Him, we will all be together one day in a place so beautiful. Who knows when that will be. Me, mom and the boys will soon be home for Christmas.
Save us a place at the banquet table.
