December 13, 2023
The Christmas season is upon
us!
If one is inclined to, one can
watch a heart-warming movie every day to help put one in the spirit of Christmas.
I suppose though, before one does that, one needs to decide something rather important.
Just what is the spirit of
Christmas?
Of course, there is no one answer
to that question, because like many things, and beyond the historical details
of the holiday, the spirit of Christmas is a subjective thing. What it means to
you may not align to what it means to me.
When I think of Christmases
past, so many snapshots await my attention. I think my earliest memory is of a
house full of people talking and laughing, some music, a happy atmosphere, and
someone saying something about needing a candle….and little four- or
five-year-old me saying, “I will get it!”, and grabbing a candlestick holding a
burning candle off a shelf I could just barely reach. Of course, tipping the
thing toward me meant spilling hot wax all down my dress…
Because most of the memories I
have of my childhood are only snapshots, I can only set that one down and reach
for another.
Christmas was over, and Daddy
was taking down the tree and I was sad. Then he said, “Well, Santa hid a gift a
little too well!” He reached under the tree and handed me a book! It was
titled, “Kim and Katy Circus Days”. I can tell you now that it was written by a
woman named Mary Grannan, who was a Canadian author. I do not, however,
remember the story. Did I read it? More than likely my daddy read it to me,
because he always read to me. He was an author at heart.
One of the last Christmases
before I got married, mom, my sister and I were in the living room, opening
gifts by the tree. Now, I don’t recall everything we got, but I do recall how
we all three laughed, because I had bought my mom and sister each a pair of warm,
fuzzy slippers. And my mom had bought each of my sister and I a pair of warm, fuzzy
slippers. And my sister had bought each of my mom and I…. you get the picture.
It was funny, and kind of wonderful, too, because that house was drafty, and we
proved that day there could be no such thing as too many warm, fuzzy pairs of
slippers to own.
Older now, I can recall some
of the Christmases when our children were small. In those days, David and I
only got each other little things, because we put everything into giving our
kids the best Christmas possible. Aside from the family tradition of an
enormous sit-down breakfast of side bacon, peameal bacon, sausage, eggs,
breakfast potatoes, toast, orange juice and grape juice, milk and coffee, there
were the gifts. It was a time of staying up late to assemble complicated toys,
and making the children wait on the stairs Christmas morning until we had our
morning coffee in hand and were seated, as awake as possible, because our biggest
gift—our joy—came from watching them. And we never wanted to miss a
moment of that. Each year we tried to save up ahead of the day, and each year
found us struggling and sacrificing perhaps more than was wise, to see those
smiles on Christmas morning.
That whole time in my life, in
my memory, is a kaleidoscope of photos and tiny scenes, all filled with so much
love. I remember making a point, just after my youngest reached adulthood, of
asking all three of them, separately, if they ever recalled a Christmas time
that was “less than”.
I can’t tell you how
gratifying it was at the time that they each told me that there had never been
a Christmas, in their childhood, that hadn’t been wonderful.
That particular memory has given me enormous comfort over
the years, especially when I think of our younger son whom we lost in 2006. And
that brings me to one other emotion associated with the spirit of Christmas—the
shadow of loss.
If we did not love, we would
not mourn. And mourning is another very personal, very individual experience.
You grieve how you grieve, and when you grieve a child, regardless of that
child’s age at the time of their passing, it is a wound that never will heal,
and a hole in your heart that will never be filled.
And because that is true for
so many people, once you’ve suffered a major loss, then the joy of Christmas
becomes more tempered. There comes a bitter-sweet flavor to the holiday that
likely will be yours forever.
I always take a few moments,
alone, to think back, to remember, maybe to shed a tear, but always to smile
with gratitude.
So as you sink yourself into
the busyness of holiday preparations, take a few moments along the way to
gather your own snapshots. And maybe, you could take a moment to hug a parent
who is missing a child, or a friend who is missing a loved one. Doing so would
be a gift you give to the one who really needs it, and a gift that will enrich
your own heart, as well.
After all, ‘tis the season.
Love,
Morgan
https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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