Is it a date on a calendar?
Is it a cause for celebration because the merchants tell us it is?
Or is it a time of year when family lovingly gathers together
and special foods are selected and prepared?
Is it a religious day of remembrance
and a day to give thanks?
OR IS IT MORE THAN THAT?
How can it be more you might ask
Let's reflect for a moment on that special time of year and what it means to each of us.
HOLIDAYS PAST
MY MEMORIES OF THANKSGIVING:
a trip into the mountains
to see the turning leaves
crisp apples hanging on trees
red and green ready for harvesting
applesauce, apple pies, and cobblers.
Falling leaves
red, yellow, orange, green, and brown
walking through crisp leaves that crackle and crunch under foot
enjoying Indian summer
piles of raked leaves, resisting childlike
urges to fall face first in the tall piles
Planning the Thanksgiving feast
Who will make what
Days of preparation
Cleaning guest rooms, opening windows briefly to freshen the rooms
in anticipation of family
Cars pull into the driveway
Rush out with hugs and kisses
And expressions of welcome
House fills with the aroma of roasting turkey
Family around the table
One chair left vacant
Our Christian gone too soon
Tears
Candlelight dances on china plates and reflects off crystal glasses
The special silverware reserved for holidays laid out
Flowers on the table
Love fills my heart
Laughter, stories, happiness
The first snowfall of the year.
DECEMBER 9TH, 2011:
CHRISTIAN'S SECOND BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN SOON TO COME
A full Heart and Joy that he was my child
and gave me so many years of happiness
Many, many memories of him as a precious little baby,
my sweet, special boy
my cuddly, adoring mommy's boy
the teenage years when he wanted me to park in the far, far end of the mall
so no one would know I had driven him
Strict instructions that if I saw him while shopping
I would pretend that we didn't know each other
I was a good Mom and didn't even give him a glance
although I had to secretly smile.
You loved your birthday more than anything
And wanted everyone to remember and call you.
without your knowledge I would call the family
and your friends to remind them.
You would have been so sad if no one remembered.
THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS' PAST:
The celebration of the birth of our Savior
I always wanted that to be the focus of the holiday
sometimes I was successful and sometimes not so successful
I loved pulling out the old decorations
(even if I didn't hang them on the tree)
and oohing and ahhing over each one
and remembering their special significance.
I loved doing a different theme for the tree each year.
I even wanted the wrapping paper to match my color scheme.
If the family brought packages that didn't coordinate,
they had to sit on the buffet and not under the tree.
My gosh! I was obsessive compulsive!
You always wanted a mismatched tree like "normal" people have
but your crazy Mom had to have her special tree.
I liked the neighbors coming over to see what it would be each year.
One year when I had pneumonia and was so sick
I couldn't get up off the couch
I ask you to wrap the presents from Santa
You were so proud! I hated to dispel the Christmas
fantasy but when I saw your gleaming face
I knew all was well. You knew a secret your sister didn't.
How many times over the years did you retell the story
with that same secretive, gleeful smile on your face?
You had a way of warming me through and through.
You had this wonderful way of seeing things differently than others.
That's what made you such a marvelous, humorous storyteller.
In years past just the thought of Christmas would fill me with a special kind of joy that is hard to explain. The first Christmas lights, the first carol, the scent of garlands and wreaths. Santa ringing his bell in front of Salvation Army kettles. All I know is that it put a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I was a working single mom so the thought of coming up with the extra cash to pay for gifts for my five children certainly wasn't it. There was a special feeling in the air that renewed my spirits and made me happy. How I loved the glitter, the ribbons, and the bows. The hustle and bustle of the shoppers. Hot chocolate and marshmallows.
We would go to a Christmas tree farm every year with my friend Diane and spend the afternoon picking out just the right tree and then cutting it down with the less than sharp saw the farm provided. How wonderful it smelled! and how damp the ground was under our knees as we sawed away. It was comical watching me trying to recut the bottom couple of inches off once we got home. Many a time I knocked the bucket of water over when trying to lift it in so it would soak up water before bringing it inside. And how many different concoctions did I make trying to prolong the life of the tree.
I loved driving the children around to look at the houses and yards decorated with lights and yard ornaments. How special that was! One elderly gentleman always put up a little Santa's workshop and handled out candy canes. He was our favorite. Our little town always put the same old battered ornaments up each year on the light poles and across the streets. They had long ago lost their splendor but somehow the town wouldn't have been the same without them. Then there was a large brightly lit tree in the city square with covered gift boxes all around. And, of course and without question, we stopped by the various churches to look at their nativity scenes and later that evening I would read the story of the first Christmas from St. Luke and we would place our own nativity scene on the hearth of the fireplace.
Then there was Christmas morning. It seemed I had just gotten into bed after my all night heroic efforts to put together toys with horribly written instructions and a butter knife (why didn't I buy a screwdriver?) and wrapping presents until I hated all of them. It seemed I had just closed my eyes when happy little children were jumping on my bed and pulling down the blankets. Who ever decided that 4 a.m. was the beginning of Christmas morning? Finally we reached a compromise … they could open their stockings and play with those gifts if they'd let me sleep another hour or two. As much as I love Christmas and what it stands for, Christmas morning really, really, really wasn't fun. Not fun until I'm finally able to focus my eyes and drag myself out of bed. Then everything changes and it becomes magical.
January 7th and time to take down the tree. I have to wait until the twelfth day of Christmas has past. The night the animals are given the gift of speech. It just wouldn't be right or feel comfortable in my mind of fantasy and fairy tales. Remember how the pine needles went everywhere when I tried to force the dead and dried tree through the door and into the field next to the house. I think that's the reason - plus the fire hazard - that finally got me to use an artificial tree. Disappointing but safer.
THOSE WERE THE OLD DAYS. THE OLDER HAPPY DAYS. NOW THE CHILDREN ARE GROWN AND MY DARLING, FUN LOVING CHRISTIAN IS GONE. We had no tree or lights or decorations last year. I was too sad. We did have a wonderful Thanksgiving even though I had initially dreaded it. We threw Christian a birthday party on his first birthday in Heaven. There were tears but also lots and lots of laughter. I wish I could say I remember last Christmas but I don't. Not one thing.
My grandchildren are the delights of my life. A couple of days later Kristen brought Benton and Brandon over to visit Nana and Papa. They had a grand time together. Benton and Persephone, had the most fun together. Benton loves spending time with his brother. His little face just glows when they are together. That gladdens my heart.
This year I missed Thanksgiving. I passed out (I don't know how long our precious baby was alone before someone showed up), ended up in the hospital, and slipped in and out of conscious all day. All I wanted to do was go home and late that evening they finally agreed. Do Doctors ever apologize? I barely remember him saying something to me about over medicating myself and trying to commit suicide. I was too unresponsive to answer but when my tox screen came back totally and completely clean, Patrick said he never even came back into the room. Patrick was pretty upset because he knew that under no circumstance would I voluntarily leave the baby uncared for. And let me make it perfectly clear ... I do not use drugs! I was too sick to care then but it makes me mad now. Why do they automatically think drugs are the cause of every illness?
I slept through the entire day of Thanksgiving - in my own bed, in my own bedroom - even though I had family all around. Even my sweet, sweet Kristen (the mother of Christian's second son) drove two hours from North Seattle with my grandson Benton to be with me. Benton wanted to have a sleep over with me in my bed. He is six and is so precious. He said to the family "Enny meanny, mighty moe, I stay and the rest of you go." How I love that little boy. His mommy had to take him home and begin cooking for Thanksgiving with her family. Stephanie and Ken took the baby home with them to spend the night so I could rest.
On Saturday the family returned and we had our turkey dinner - prepared by Tiffany. After dinner we were playing this game where we picked what our names would be if we could select our own. It was my daughter Stephanie's turn. Let me tell you first, Stephanie is beautiful, classy, and sophisticated. She should have been born into royalty. Before she could answer little Persephone called out "Your name should be Bisquick." I still laugh at the thought of it.
If I'm well enough, I'm suppose to go visit my Mother in Nevada from November 30th to December 14th. If I get there, we'll light a candle for Christian on his birthday and send up a balloon with love notes attached.
I don't know what Christmas will hold this year; but we do have a baby that will be celebrating his first Christmas. His Papa and I will have to get a small tree that we can put on a table or that little pudding head will pull it over.
I try so hard to be thankful for all I have but there is nothing that can fill that empty place inside of me. I see the lights and sounds of Christmas and I feel nothing. I will do everything I can to make this a special Christmas for baby Christian. I truly can hardly wait to see his little face when the tree lights are turned on for the first time. But where is the joy and excitement I use to feel? I try and try and try but I just can't find it.
I can't end this without telling you about Easter when Christian was just four. I remember it was on a Wednesday morning and little Christian came to me and said "Today is Easter". I tried to explain that no today is Wednesday and then we have Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and finally Easter Sunday arrives. He looked up at me with his beautiful clear blue eyes and a face of pure innocence and says "Mommy you know no big rabbit comes and brings eggs and a basket so Easter can be any day we want and today is Easter." I then had to explain what Easter really was but I never forgot his logic at the tender age of four.
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