Christmas is upon us once again. Each year I get excited. It has even been more so in the last six years. There is nothing like the squeals of delight and joy from the children as they unwrap their gifts. I even get in on the delightful squeals when I open mine! Yet, each year I find it harder to decide what I want or what Christmas means to me.
I won't touch on the religious side of the issue. While important, I want to concentrate on a different side. What do I want out of this holiday? What do I want for my family?
We put our tree up the weekend after Thanksgiving. Now, with three kids ranging from 2 to 7, it can be taxing. This time it wasn't so much. While hanging some of the more fragile ornaments we have gathered over the years, I felt a catch in my throat and a little tearing of my eyes. I was hanging memories on the tree.
Each ornament I was hanging had a memory attached to it. There is the turned wooden ornament a dear friend made for me one year. It reminds me of the fun times we had together before he passed. There are the ornaments with the names of various children we’ve been honored to have in our care. We have wooden ornaments purchased in Tennessee to commemorate our anniversary. Ornaments that were given to us as gifts hang on the tree and remind us of dear friends.
Memories at Christmas carry a special place in our hearts. I fondly remember many Christmas days at Grandma’s house. My Pa-paw was usually more excited than his grand-kids were. He loved to have all of us around. My Uncle George was another. He was blind and always punched the gift tags in Braille. We all knew who the package was from but not to whom it belonged! Someone would give him the gift so he could read the tag and give the gift. Those memories are precious and still bring a tear to my eye even now.
There are those memories that come along during this time that bring us feelings of melancholy or sadness. Last year at this time, we were nursing broken hearts. A child was taken from us and placed with another family. We were devastated. She was supposed to be ours. We knew it. We wanted it. Yet, her biological mother wished her adopted by the family adopting her to be born baby boy. (There is a happy ending to this that I will tell you later.) At times, we feel pangs of loneliness and pain as we remember those who are no longer with us. Christmas can be schizophrenic with a range of emotions.
Christmas can also be a time of miracles. Here is the happy ending I alluded to above. Just two days after Christmas, we received a call from the couple that was supposed to adopt the little girl we had grown to love so deeply. They wanted us to take her back. They told us that God had impressed upon them that she was to be with us. (I am holding back tears right now.) She wasn't doing well with them and their family. Our prayers were answered. She was coming home. As icing on the miracle cake, we gained five people that we happily call "family." God is indeed a miracle-working God. That is a beautiful memory.
This year we were able to share a "concert" with our two oldest girls. My wife and I are big fans of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. If we can make it to their shows, we do. Covid canceled live shows. They decided to do a live stream concert instead of arena shows. We determined that our two oldest could stay up and watch. We enjoyed some fantastic music, and the girls got to dance and stay up late. It is a memory I pray they will always have and will cherish. I will.
So, what do I want out of Christmas? I haven't directly answered it, but I think you can determine what it is. I want memories. I want to make them with my beautiful family. I pray my kids will look back on these times and remember more than the gifts they received. I want them to fondly remember the joy of family, of giving and being loved. I know I will cherish the memories we make.
Merry Christmas. May it be full of joyful memories made and remembered.
Larry